


Perceptions

by Lillyjk



Series: Perceptions [1]
Category: Without a Trace
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-10
Updated: 2005-08-10
Packaged: 2017-10-10 22:04:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 28,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/104805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lillyjk/pseuds/Lillyjk





	1. Oblivious

  
"You know she's just using you, right?" Danny's voice was low, just loud enough to carry across the desk. "She's trying to make Jack jealous. You're gonna get hurt Fitzie, you better be careful."

Martin stiffened at the words, blue eyes going frosty as he looked up from his notepad to meet Danny's eyes. He didn't say anything for a long moment, letting the silence deepen before finally responding. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh come on, Martin. Do you really think you're fooling anybody?" He waved his hand toward the conference room where Jack and Sam were deep in conversation. "I'm an FBI agent, same as you, you can't expect me not to notice what's going on with you." His usual smirk made a brief appearance. "I'm perceptive like that."

"Not _that_ perceptive." Martin tossed the words out as he got to his feet. He grabbed his coat and shrugged into it deciding his paper work could wait until the morning. "None of your business anyway, so let's just drop it. I'm heading out." They'd had this same conversation countless times over the last few months.

He didn't wait for Danny's response, instead turning away and heading for the elevators. It had been another long day in a series of long days. He hadn't slept more than a few hours over the last couple of days and now it was catching up to him.  
The case was solved, but not in a way that made anybody happy. He hated these cases, hated having to deliver bad news instead of good. At least it was Friday and they didn't have a new case. Maybe he could catch up with his sleep over the weekend.

He stepped into the elevator, glad that he wouldn't have to ride down with Danny, wouldn't have to hear anymore of his advice. Because the whole thing with Sam, well, Danny was right on that one. Sam was using him, hell, she wasn't even particularly subtle about it. But, Danny didn't realize that Martin was using Sam too. It was never about love, or even about lust really. Sam was an attractive woman, but she wasn't the one that Martin wanted to spend his nights with. She was just something, someone, to fill the void.

The physical release was just that, a release. There wasn't any emotion to it, not on either side. They both knew it and they both pretended not to, it made them feel a little more human to imagine they cared. And he supposed they did care on some level, but mostly just the care you have for a friend. The care that meant no hurt feelings, at least not intentionally.

It was over anyway, even though they hadn't talked about it, hadn't acknowledged it to each other or anyone else. It had been more than a month since they'd been together. Jack staying in New York and getting a divorce made it official somehow. Sam was already circling in the water, a shark catching the scent of fresh blood. Martin supposed he should feel hurt or upset, but mostly he was just relieved. He didn't love Sam, but he did like her, and maybe the thing with Jack wouldn't blow up in her face – again.

In truth, Sam had been a complication he didn't need. Things had gotten tense with Jack because of it, and he could sense the hostility radiating off the other man in waves. It was laughable really, Jack being jealous of his "relationship" with Sam. Sam was, had been, only a distraction for Martin, somebody to keep him occupied, somebody to keep him from thinking too much about who he really wanted. Sam had been a warm body to plunge into and wrap around when things got too tough. He was pretty sure he'd been the same to her.

The elevator door opened and he stepped out into the parking garage, heading for his car before changing direction and angling toward the street exit. He wasn't quite up to making the drive home just yet. He pulled his coat tight as he stepped outside, the icy blast of air seeming to buffet him along as he walked toward the bar. He'd never been in there by himself, only with the team when they were celebrating finding somebody alive and well.

He settled into a booth in the corner and ordered two whiskeys, neat. The waitress knew him well enough to arch an eyebrow at his drink request. He met her look with one of his own, and it was enough. She brought the drinks and set them in front of him without comment.

He picked up one of the glasses, studying the contents for a moment before taking a sip. As always whiskey made him think of Danny. Ironic he supposed, since Danny was an alcoholic, but his dark eyes had amber flecks just the color of a good whiskey.

At the thought of Danny a small smile played across his lips. Danny and his "perceptions." Danny was a good agent, great at his job, and he was very perceptive at reading people during an investigation. He could usually tell who was lying, or hiding something, or just plain scared. But on a personal level, on a personal level _Danny's perception skills were for shit._ Danny had half the city of New York lusting after him and he was oblivious.

It took Martin a while to realize it. All that flirting that Danny did, Martin figured he had to know what effect it had. His personality combined with that face and that body, he just oozed sex appeal. But the longer Martin knew him, the more time they spent together, the clearer it became. _ Danny had no idea that he flirted. _ It was just as natural to him as breathing.

Martin had watched him flirt with men, women, murder suspects, rape victims, even a nun once. Danny honestly didn't know it and couldn't seem to control it. He always seemed surprised when somebody called him on it, trying to take him up on an offer he didn't realize he'd made. Martin had seen it time and time again. Women slipping Danny their numbers, and sometimes outright propositioning him in the midst of an investigation. Men would "accidentally" brush against Danny, hands groping him for support when they stumbled, erections materializing at inappropriate times.

He took another sip of the drink, savoring the heat, the sting of it on his tongue. He knew all too well the "erection effect" that Danny engendered. He'd been a victim of it himself, on a daily basis for the last three years. And Danny, clever Danny, just did not get it. Totally fucking oblivious.

Danny with that stupid hair-cut that always made it look like he'd just gotten out of bed. Danny with the full bottom lip that he nibbled at when he was concentrating. Danny with no sense of personal space, always leaning in a little too close so Martin got a whiff of soap, and cologne, and that unique Danny smell. Danny who always seemed to need to touch him at least a half dozen times a day. Danny with those hands and long fingers that moved almost as fast as his mouth every time he talked. Danny with that smart-assed smirk that made Martin want to kill him, or kiss him. Danny with that long lean swimmer's body that shouted out for Martin's hands and mouth and cock. Danny with a voice that could melt ice, especially when he started speaking Spanish.

Danny who thought it was his wit and sarcastic comments that kept a perpetual blush on Martin's face. Danny who didn't realize that Martin only heard half of what he said most of the time, his eyes locking on Danny's lips and hands and his brain shutting down as his dick took over. Danny who had no idea that he was the star of the porn movie playing in Martin's head every time he jacked off. Danny who had no idea that Martin had played that imaginary movie at work more than once, jacking off in the bathroom when it got to be too much.

When it came down to it, Danny was the reason that Martin had gotten involved with Sam in the first place. Things had gotten unbearable and Sam was available and so they'd fallen into bed, both pretending they were with somebody else. Martin hadn't planned it that way, he'd tried other ways to get Danny out of his head at first.

At first, he thought the whole Danny obsession was just a lust thing. He'd fooled around with more than his share of guys when he was in prep school and college and even a couple of times since. But there'd always been women too. So, he thought he was just craving another man. Thought maybe it was just the desire for a hard body pressed up against his own, rough hands and rough kisses and the hot slide of another man's cock. And so he'd picked up somebody at a bar, a good-looking guy, resembled Danny if he squinted and wished hard enough. But it hadn't worked, he'd realized his mistake at the first kiss, made his apologies, and slipped away. Another man hadn't worked, so he thought maybe a woman would.

And so, there was Sam with her curves and long blond hair, a living breathing Barbie doll with a brain and a way with a gun. It had almost seemed logical at the time. Danny was out of reach, out of his league, not interested, oblivious. And Sam was there, and on the rebound, and somewhere in the back of his head Martin thought Sam _ knew _ how he felt about Danny. It had seemed logical, had seemed like a good idea, but it hadn't worked.

So he was back where he started, a little worse for wear. The team was still together and work still came first. Things would be okay with Sam, neither to them had cared enough for it to hurt when it ended. Jack, well, that would probably take care of itself with time, especially now that Sam would be warming his bed again. Vivian had her own problems to worry about. And Danny, well Danny would no doubt continue to do what he always did – drive Martin crazy.

He had drained the second drink and was contemplating ordering another round when Danny slid into the booth across from him. Martin blinked at first, wondered if he was hallucinating, he wasn't a light weight, but two whiskeys on an empty stomach was a little much.

"Hey Fitzie," Danny ran a hand through his hair, brushing a few random flakes of snow loose, the move along with the stupid hair-cut working together to heighten the "just out of bed" look. "Thought you might be here when I saw your car was still in the garage."

Martin continued to stare at him, his lips pressed together tightly.

"Look, don't be mad about what I said." Danny's hands were moving again, his fingers tracing random patterns on the tabletop. He bent his head, his dark eyes peering up at Martin from beneath eyelashes that Sam would kill for. "I wasn't trash talking Sam or anything, but-" he paused, searching for the right words. "I'm worried about you."

Martin let out a little laugh. He caught the waitress's eye and ordered another drink, holding up a finger to signal he only wanted one this time. "Thanks for the concern Danny. But really, you shouldn't be."

Danny sent a pointed look at the two empty glasses. "Doesn't seem that way to me."

Martin felt the heat rise, a blush spreading across his face. "This isn't usual for me."

"Yeah, that's why I'm worried."

The waitress deposited his whiskey and slid another glass in front of Danny. "Brought you a club soda, your usual." She smiled at the other man, before shooting a disapproving look at Martin. "This one's on his third."

Martin watched as Danny shot her a blinding smile, "Thanks Maria, you're a good woman. And don't worry, I'll take care of him."

The waitress's smile deepened, her eyes roaming over Danny's face before she turned away. "Just let me know if you need anything. And I do mean anything."

Goddamn it, he was doing it again. Martin felt his anger flare, a spark of jealousy that Danny knew the waitress's name, that she remembered his drink preference. And Danny had no clue. Had no idea that the waitress would gladly meet him out back for a quick fuck if Danny asked her to. Oblivious.

He drained the third whiskey, setting the empty glass back on the table with a thump. "I'm going home."

He flinched when Danny's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. "You're not driving. Not after three drinks in," he glanced at his watch, "less than an hour."

"Fine, I'll cab it." He jerked his hand away, reaching in his pocket for some crumpled bills and tossing them on the table.

Danny was already on his feet, blocking him as he tried to rise from the booth. "Let me drive you."

Martin pushed past him, "No thanks."

Danny was touching him again, his hand on Martin's arms, his body too close. "Please Martin, let me do this. I'll worry if I don't take you home."

"Whatever," Martin pulled his arm free, he had to get some space between them. "Anything that'll get you to shut up." The words came out harsher than he meant, and he saw the flash of anger that crossed Danny's face. He was glad suddenly, anger was better than pity.

He followed Danny out of the bar and back to the parking garage, glad the other man was in the lead, so he didn't see Martin stumble. That third whiskey had definitely been a bad idea. He could feel it sloshing around in his stomach, reminding him that he hadn't eaten anything in more than twelve hours. It was a relief to settle into Danny's car, to strap himself into a seat and inhale the Danny smell that permeated the interior.

They made the ride in complete silence. The hot air from the vents blowing against Martin's face, the heat and the whiskey making him nauseous. He closed his eyes and laid his head against the seat. And then Danny was shaking him, telling him that he was home, one of those hands at his waist, undoing his seatbelt. Then helping him out, leading him down the sidewalk and into the entryway.

They were halfway across the lobby when Martin realized this was Danny's building, not his own. "Why are we here?" He stopped, the abrupt motion making his sway a bit on hit feet.

"You passed out in the car, Martin. You're exhausted." Danny gave him a little half smile. "And besides, I don't know where your new place is." He reached out for Martin's arm, steering him forward once more.  
Martin let himself be pulled along without protest. Danny was right, he was exhausted, and right now he didn't know if he even remembered where his new apartment was. He'd only been in it about two weeks, and with hot cases back to back he hadn't exactly spent a lot of time there.

He was vaguely aware that Danny was still talking, something about food and rest and it all sounded wonderful to Martin. Sweet, oblivious Danny was trying to take care of him. He followed along, his eyes focused on the swaying motion of Danny's hips, the movement sexy as hell. He didn't remember climbing the stairs or crossing the hallway, but suddenly they were at Danny's door.

He slumped back against the wall while Danny dug his keys out and unlocked the door. Then they were inside. He was inside Danny's apartment with all of Danny's things and Danny's smell and Danny and Martin had the sudden urge to grin. He dropped down in the overstuffed easy chair Danny waved him toward, eyes closing.

"No, Fitzie, you got to stay awake a little while longer." Danny was shaking him again. "You need to eat and drink some water or you'll be really sick in the morning." His hands were on Martin's shoulders and Martin could fell the heat of them through his coat and suit jacket.

He opened one eye, taking in Danny's smirk. "Just let me sleep it off."

Danny leaned in until his face was only inches away from Martin's, "Trust me on this, food will make you feel better. You'll thank me in the morning."

Martin let his eye slide back shut, "Whatever." He could smell Danny, feel his breath against his face, his nearness making his head spin more than the whiskey ever could.

"Good, just give me a sec." And then his hands were off Martin's shoulders and he was gone and Martin could breath again.

He roused himself just enough to shed his coat and suit jacket, the apartment or the whiskey or Danny or the combo of all three making him overly warm. He could hear Danny talking in the kitchen, but it was too hard to focus on the words so he just made sounds of agreement every time Danny paused. He was contemplating sliding his shoes off when Danny reappeared, two glasses and a couple of plates balanced in his hands.

Martin took the glass of water Danny shoved toward him, and watched as Danny placed the rest of his cargo on the already cluttered coffee table. Sandwiches. Danny dropped down on the couch across from him.

"Drink some water man, it'll help." Danny stared at Martin until he relented, chugging down half the glass. "Now eat." Danny commanded as he started on his own sandwich.

Martin picked up the sandwich and examined it. "Peanut butter and jelly, are you kidding me?" He tried to imagine the combination of pb&amp;j and whiskey mixing in his stomach. Didn't seem very appealing.

"Yeah, well, I haven't exactly had time to pick up groceries lately." Danny took another bite of his sandwich and then chased it with a drink from his glass, grinning when Martin started to eat.

Danny had a milk mustache. Martin felt his cock stir, the sight oddly arousing. Only Danny could make a fucking milk mustache look sexy. He took another bite of his sandwich, his eyes fastened on Danny's mouth.

"Are you with me?" Danny waved a hand in front of his face and Martin realized that he was talking again.

"Huh?" Oh wow, really articulate there Martin. Drunk and tongue-tied, no wonder Danny wasn't into him. "I mean, what did you say?"

"You're zoning out on me." Danny smirked again. "I said maybe I was wrong about the Sam thing. Maybe it could work out for you guys."

Martin fought the urge to roll his eyes, Sam again. "Give it a rest Danny, the 'Sam thing' is over." He saw Danny's smirk fade, a flash of something – was it regret or relief – flashing across Danny's face.

"I'm sorry. And here I've been ragging you about it." Danny's hand pushed through his hair, "So, that's what this is all about."

"This?"

"Tonight, this week, this month. You, the mood, the whiskey." Danny gave a little laugh. "Don't get me wrong, you're a moody guy on a good day, but this is extreme even for you. You're really hung up on her." There was concern, and something else in his voice.

Martin gave in to the urge and did roll his eyes then. Perceptive my ass. "Danny, trust me when I tell you that I'm not hung up on Sam. It was a casual thing. Probably not the smartest thing I've ever done, but nothing serious. No harm, no foul." He finished his sandwich and washed it down with the rest of his water. Danny was right, the food did make him feel better.

When he realized Danny had gone quiet, he looked up and immediately wished he hadn't. Danny was doing that thing with his bottom lip again, biting at it as he looked at Martin through half-closed eyes, his expression intense, head cocked to one side as if Martin was some sort of exotic new life form.

Martin's cock twitched again and he felt himself flush as Danny continued to stare at him. He shifted in the chair, crossing one leg over the other, ankle resting on his knee in an attempt to hide his growing erection. Damn Danny and those full lips and dark eyes. Martin just knew Danny had that same expression when he had sex. That look of intense concentration that made Martin feel like he was the only thing in the world that Danny could see.

"Look, uh, thanks for the food and the ride. But, I'm really beat." He shifted again, willing his dick to cooperate. "I'll cab it home and-"

"Just crash here. You can take my bed and I'll sack out on the couch." Danny was up and moving again taking the empty plates and glasses into the kitchen. "I'm too wired to sleep right now, and I wanna catch the basketball game on tv anyway."

Martin started to protest and then thought better of it. He _was_ exhausted, and the idea of going back out in the cold was not appealing in the least, nor was the idea of being jostled around in a cab. "Great, thanks."

If Danny was startled at his quick capitulation, he didn't show it. Instead he pointed Martin toward the bedroom and bathroom. "Help yourself to anything you need. There are some pants in the bottom drawer of the chest that should fit you if you wanna shower and change." He plopped back down on the couch, grabbing the remote control. "Should be a new toothbrush in the medicine cabinet too."

The idea of a hot shower seemed like the best thing on earth, and Martin was suddenly eager for it as he headed into the bedroom. He dug a pair of soft flannel pajama pants out of Danny's chest, making a conscious effort not to glance around the room anymore than necessary. He'd been in Danny's apartment before, but never in the bedroom, and he really didn't need any more fuel for his fantasies.

Danny's bathtub was a whole new experience. Martin had one bottle in his shower, a shampoo/conditioner combo, and a bar of Irish Spring soap. Danny's shower was filled with about twenty assorted bottles of shampoo, conditioner, body wash, exfoliator, and other stuff that Martin couldn't even begin to identify. There was a coarse brown thing that he thought was called a loofah, and then some spongy net thingy like the one Sam had in her shower.

He stood under the hot spray and kept his mind occupied studying all of Danny's toiletries. He did a pretty good job of keeping himself from thinking about the fact that this was Danny's shower, that he was naked in Danny's shower, that he was naked in the shower where Danny probably jacked off. Then he opened the top of one of the bottles and he got a whiff of that Danny scent and it was all over. His cock was instantly hard, and he had to fight to keep his hands off of it. He WOULD NOT jack off in Danny's shower, whiskey or no whiskey. He wasn't that far out of control. Gritting his teeth, he turned the hot water down and the cold water up and finished his shower.

His teeth were chattering when he got out, so he rushed to dry off and brush his teeth. He reached for the pajama bottoms and pulled them on, they were a little tight, but still comfortable. He fought back a little giggle as he headed back into the bedroom, mumbling goodnight to Danny on the way. It was hilarious when he thought about it, snuggling down into the bed after he straightened the wreck of covers. A little more than an hour after he'd first seen him in the bar, almost three years since they first met, he had finally gotten into Danny Taylor's pants and Danny Taylor's bed. Hot, sexy, totally oblivious Danny Taylor.  



	2. Oblivious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny finally gets a clue...and did you ever notice that for two such different words, it's such a short leap from Oblivious to Obvious?

  
Danny shifted restlessly on the couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table. He'd ditched his tie and shoes long ago, but he still couldn't get comfortable. The game was on, but he hadn't been able to concentrate on it, hadn't been able to pay attention for more than a few minutes before his mind drifted back to Martin. Martin. Martin was in his bed right now.

He'd abandoned all hope of Martin ever getting in his bed more than a year ago. That's about the time that Martin had gone all cold on him. About the time that Martin started looking through him instead of at him for the most part, about the time that Martin was suddenly busy every time that Danny asked him to lunch or to watch a game.

Danny had been puzzled at first, hurt more than he liked to admit, when Martin changed. Things had been going so well between them up until then. They had a great work partnership, and while that was pretty much unchanged, the rest had gone to hell. Up until then, he'd considered Martin a close friend, and, maybe something more. It was obvious that he'd been dead wrong.

He should have known even then that it was a pipe dream. The thought of something more than friendship with Martin Fitzgerald was outright fantasy. He'd always known that Martin was straight. For God's sake, Fitzie had his own personal picture of George W. Bush in his cubicle. Martin was one of those guys who just screamed apple pie and white picket fences with 2.5 kids and a pretty wife.

But, the thought had been there in Danny's mind all along, since the first time he'd seen him, the thought of seducing Martin. He'd always had a thing for "straight" guys, and the strong silent type and Martin was both. Martin was his type to a tee. Just the type that made Danny want to push the boundaries, made him want to see just how much he could get away with, a touch here and there, the total invasion of personal space, the comments. He couldn't have been any more obvious about it without dropping to his knees and begging to suck Martin's cock.

And he'd spent plenty of time thinking about doing just that. Every time that blush spread across Martin's face Danny's cock got hard. He'd wondered if Martin got that pink everywhere, if that creamy skin flushed all over when he was aroused. He'd imagined Martin's cock and how it would look, how it would taste, if it would smell like musk, or soap, or sweat, or a combination of all three. He'd imagined the feel of that cock buried to the hilt in his ass and how it would throb when Danny wrapped his palm around it and stroked it or slid it between his lips and caressed it with his tongue.

And then there was Martin's tight body. To be blunt, Martin was built like a brick shithouse. He was shorter than Danny, but more muscular. All muscle. Round ass that begged to be grabbed, thighs that looked like they could wrap around you and pull you in so deep that you'd never get out. Not that Danny would want to get out.

So, he'd flirted his ass off to get Martin to notice him. To get Martin to see him as something more than just his work buddy. Straight-laced Martin was a challenge, and Danny never could resist a challenge. And the funny thing is, along the way it had changed for Danny. Martin had become more than just a potential conquest. Along the way he'd started to respect Martin, to like Martin, even to _love _Martin a little. And up until a year ago, he'd convinced himself that Martin was starting to feel the same way.

Because Martin _ had _looked at him, hell, he still looked at him that way sometimes, and Danny swore there was something behind that look. Something more than friendship. Sometimes when Danny would be talking Martin's eyes would go dark and his jaw would clench and that blush would start creeping across his face. And Danny had been on the receiving end of those looks enough to know what they meant. Those looks said that Martin might not like it, might never even realize it, but he'd wanted Danny too.

And then there were the touches. Admittedly, Danny was the one who did all the touching, but there in the end, up until the chill settled, Martin started leaning into those touches. It was subtle, but it was there. Danny would touch Martin's arm or lean over his shoulder, and Martin would move closer instead of farther away and Danny's cock would go all hard at the smell of Irish Spring soap.

Sometimes Danny even thought that Martin got a little jealous. Calm cool Martin started making those little remarks, little digs every time somebody showed some interest in Danny. He'd thought it had been a sign, a sign that Martin was starting to view him as more than a friend. God, he'd been so stupid. It was so obvious.

See, the way Danny figured it, Martin had changed because he finally caught on to him. Martin was a smart guy, and he'd realized that Danny wanted more than just a friendship. He'd realized that, even though Danny flirted with lots of women, he only meant it with the men. Martin had discovered that good 'old Danny was a homo with a crush and it had scared the shit out of him.

And so, Martin had gone all cold on him. Danny knew Martin wasn't prejudiced, but he was uncomfortable with Danny's little crush and probably more than uncomfortable with his own response to it, with those less than Republican feelings. Martin was a stand-up guy, and he'd probably figured that he could let Danny down easy by giving him the brush off, without actually having to tell Danny that he wasn't interested. Martin had made sure that their relationship was strictly business and then he'd sealed the deal by starting his little office romance with Sam.

So Danny had taken the hint…eventually. He'd chalked it up as a mistake and tried to move on. Tried to think of Martin as nothing more than an associate, a work friend. It had worked for the most part. Well, that was a lie.

It hadn't worked at all. It had been pure fucking torture to watch Martin and Sam with their "secret" romance. He'd taken every opportunity to make Sam and Martin uncomfortable, to offer unsolicited advice and give dire warnings, wearing his little smirk the entire time. It was petty, he knew that, but Danny had been pissed, and hurt, and there were Martin and Sam the FBI version of Barbie and Ken. And sometimes he'd looked at Sam and known that she had what he wanted, known that she didn't even appreciate Martin and he wanted nothing more than to grab her by all that pretty blond hair and sling her out the nearest window.

Yeah, Danny had a vicious streak under all that teasing and charm, and he'd been glad when things got rocky. Glad when it became apparent that Sam was still in love with Jack and that Martin was just her way of tormenting her ex-lover. He'd felt vindicated somehow, like he was getting some sort of revenge on Martin for breaking his heart - even if Martin didn't know he'd done it.

But tonight, tonight he'd seen Martin out of control. He'd seen Martin down and out and he hadn't felt any pleasure in it. He'd only felt regret, regret for what never was and what had been. It had make him sick to his stomach to watch Martin toss back those drinks, to watch Martin try to drown his sorrows, his exhaustion, his loneliness. Because deep down, underneath all the bullshit he'd been slinging, all that crap he'd been telling himself about being better off and how stupid it was to long for someone he couldn't have, underneath all that Danny was still more than a little in love with Martin.

But there was a funny thing about being out of control, it made things that had been buried come to the surface. And out-of-control Martin was easy to read. So tonight, for the first time in a long time, Danny thought that maybe he hadn't been wrong when he thought Martin was attracted to him. Maybe Martin wasn't Mr. Apple Pie. Maybe Martin was telling the truth about not being hung up on Sam. Maybe they were both idiots who had spent the last three years dancing around each other instead of making a move. Because, and there was no maybe about this little fact, _Martin had been sporting a mighty big erection while he stared at Danny's lips._ And right now, Martin and his impressive erection were in Danny's bed.

Danny's own impressive erection was a direct result of that fact. Martin Fitzgerald. IN. HIS. BED. Wearing nothing but an awfully snug pair of pajama bottoms, pajama bottoms that had clung to that high round ass like a second skin. Danny ran a hand through his hair and shifted again on the couch, the movement making his sensitized cock grow even harder, the tip leaving a wet spot on the front of his suit pants. Martin was in his bed - alone, most likely still aroused, and drunk.

There had been a time, not so many years ago, when Danny would have thought that was the perfect situation. He would have been just as drunk, probably more so, and he would have climbed into that bed with Martin and made him forget all about Sam, made him forget all about anybody except Danny. He would have used his mouth and hands and dick and made Martin scream with pleasure, made all that lovely pale skin go pink.

The sex would be great, but it would still be drunk sex. The kind of sex that made you avert your eyes and mumble apologies when the booze wore off. And the next day, the alcohol would be an excuse, a reason why neither of them had to face their actions in the cold light of day. And nothing would be said about it, and there might even be more hurried encounters, but eventually it would end badly and one of them would put in for a transfer.

So, while the temptation was there, laying in HIS bed, wearing HIS pajama bottoms, it was a temptation that Danny could resist. Because damn it all, Danny was tired of just being a work buddy, and he wanted more than a night of throwaway sex. Danny wanted Martin, a completely sober completely aware Martin that knew just exactly what he was getting into.

Because Danny had let Martin freeze him out before. He hadn't fought for it, hadn't pushed it, hadn't made Martin face up to facts. This time he was going to wage an all out assault on Mr. Fitzgerald. This time he was going to seduce Martin, he was going to push him to the edge and then follow him right over the cliff.

A grin crossed his face, the same grin that made Maria the waitress go weak in the knees. See, Danny could be very focused. It was one of his best assets in his line of work. Because when Danny got focused, Danny got results. And right now, Danny was focused on Martin. He just had to be sure of a couple of things before he went any further.

  
He glanced at his watch and then at the closed bedroom door. It had been almost an hour since Martin went to bed. Between his exhaustion and the whiskey, Martin should be well and truly asleep. Well and truly out of it. Sharp mind dulled just enough by alcohol and long-overdue rest. The grin turned to a smirk, and then Danny got up and headed into the bedroom. There were just some things that he had to know _ tonight._  



	3. Surreality

A little less conversation, a little more action please

  
Elvis sounded like he'd swallowed a very unhappy frog. His voice was all distorted and totally off key. Jesus, guess that was proof that a life of excess could really damage you.

__

All this aggravation ain't satisfactioning me

  
Somebody should tell the King that he was way past his prime. Time to give up the throne. But wait, wasn't Elvis dead?

__

A little more bite and a little less bark

  
Dead men couldn't sing. Martin opened his eyes and immediately closed them again, the bright sunlight streaming through the window making him wince.

__

A little less fight and a little more spark

  
Good God, either Danny was singing or someone was strangling a cat. Even dead Elvis would sound much better than this.

__

Close your mouth and open up your heart and baby satisfy me  
Satisfy me baby

  
Sounded a little bit like Danny was singing _and_ strangling a cat. The faint sound of the shower was barely discernable over all the screeching.

__

Baby close your eyes and listen to the music

  
Martin slid one eye back open. According to the bedside clock it was nearly noon. He'd been asleep more than twelve hours.

__

Drifting through a summer breeze

  
He shut his eye again and groaned. If possible Danny's singing was getting worse.

__

It's a groovy night and I can show you how to use it  
Come along with me and put your mind at ease

  
It was definitely getting louder.

__

A little less conversation, a little more action please  
All this aggravation ain't satisfactioning me

He heard the sound of the shower cutting off, and then nothing. Blessed silence.

__

A little more bite and a little less bark  
A little less fight and a little more spark

  
Sweet mother of Christ! His head was pounding, the previous night's whiskey was making itself known.

__

Close your mouth and open up your heart and baby satisfy me  
Satisfy me baby

  
He rolled onto his side and faced the bedroom door. Maybe if he glared at it hard enough it would become soundproof.

__

Come on baby I'm tired of talking  
Grab your coat and let's start walking

  
Evidently he had not developed any magical soundproofing power because Danny's screeching was still coming through loud and clear.

__

Come on, come on  
Come on, come on  
Come on, come on

  
He clamped a hand over the ear that wasn't against the pillow in an effort to preserve his eardrum. And his sanity. He used to like Elvis.

__

Don't procrastinate, don't articulate  
Girl it's getting late, gettin' upset waitin' around

  
As if Danny should be singing a song about talking less. Well, it was comforting to know that Danny wasn't good at _everything._

__

A little less conversation, a little more action please  
All this aggravation ain't satisfactioning me

  
In fact, without a doubt, Danny was the worst singer Martin had ever heard.

__

A little more bite and a little less bark  
A little less fight and a little more spark

  
Martin grinned in spite of himself. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, leaning back against the headboard when his body protested the movement.

__

Close your mouth and open up your heart and baby satisfy me  
Satisfy me baby

  
Maybe he didn't find Danny so irresistible after all. Then the bedroom door opened and Martin lost his mind.

"You're up, great." Danny grinned at him as he stepped into the room. "I was starting to get worried."

Martin's mouth opened, but no words came out. He grunted instead. He was speechless.

Danny, of course, was not.

"See Fitzie, that's what happens when you go so long without sleep." Danny walked over to the chest pulled a drawer open and started rummaging around. "You eventually just crash."

Martin felt like he was going to burst into flame as the blood rushed first to his face and then further south. DANNY WAS NAKED. Well, not _completely_ naked, but the skimpy white towel wrapped around his hips didn't cover very much. All that golden skin was exposed, lean muscled chest, etched abs, long legs. Martin didn't think his cock had ever gotten this hard, this fast. Thank god the duvet was still over his lower body.

He was vaguely aware that Danny was still talking and waving his hands around like he always did. Something about vitamins and lavender oil for stress relief. Martin's eyes were fastened on the bare skin of Danny's belly visible above the towel. A slender line of dark hair trailed down from his bellybutton, like an arrow pointing to Danny's-

"Hey, anybody home in there." Danny snapped his fingers. "You're all red." He walked closer, the movement making the towel slide down a little further, baring another inch of golden skin.

Martin swallowed, he was actually salivating over Danny. He closed his eyes and let out a little whimper. Maybe Danny would just go away. Maybe he'd just take his golden body and his sorry excuse for a towel and go away.

His eyes flew open when he felt the bed dip a little. DANNY WAS NOT GETTING IN THIS BED. But it was too late. Danny grinned at him from his perch on the side of the bed before narrowing his eyes and leaning closer. He was still wet from his shower, and Martin had the urge to take his tongue and lick every lucky lucky water drop off Danny's body.

"You don't look so good." Danny's hand came up, palm pressing against Martin's forehead. "You're awfully hot." The hand moved to Martin's cheek. "Geez, you're hot all over. I think you've got a fever or something."

Martin was about to prove that spontaneous human combustion was, in fact, real. He knew he should turn his head away, but instead he found himself leaning into Danny's hand like a cat trying to get petted. Jesus, he could practically wrap himself in the scent of freshly showered Danny. His cock felt like it was going to explode, and how would he explain that. Danny wouldn't be letting him borrow any more pajamas, that was for sure.

Danny finally pulled his hand away, letting it drop down to Martin's bare chest. "Even your chest is all pink and hot." He leaned in even further, until his face was only inches away, his brown eyes wide as they met Martin's, "And your eyes are glassy."

Martin gritted his teeth, he could feel the heat of Danny's breath against his cheek. Who knew the smell of Aquafresh could be an aphrodisiac? The urge to move those last few inches was overwhelming. Four inches, five tops, and his lips could be against Danny's mouth. Well, fuck it, if he didn't do something soon his brain was going to shut down completely. He was going to do it, he was going to lean in and –

Suddenly Danny pulled back, "I better get you some aspirin." And then he was up and out the door before Martin could so much as blink. "I think I've got a thermometer around here somewhere."

Martin stared after him. Was it his imagination, or had Danny's fingers slid across his nipple? Had those brown eyes…a memory swam up. Danny sitting beside him on the bed, pale light filtering in from the living room. Hands on Martin's shoulders, gently shaking him out of his whiskey and sleep cocoon. Danny babbling on and on about Sam and couples therapy and self-help books and who was hotter Jack or Danny and how many men had Martin been with.

What? Martin sat straight up, his erection forgotten. Did he dream that or had Danny actually interrogated him in the night? Had Danny asked him about his _ male lovers_? Had Danny asked him if Jack was hot? And if so, had he told him? Seemed like he could remember…something. It was all so surreal, so fuzzy. He tried to concentrate, but, oh god, not that. Anything but that.

__

Lord almighty, feel my temperature rising  
Higher and higher, it's burning through to my soul

  
Danny was singing again.  



	4. Underneath it All

  
_The Day After the Night Before_

It took all of Danny's will power to stop himself from rubbing his hands together with glee and dancing a jig right there outside the bedroom door. The look on Martin's face was priceless, those blue eyes had nearly bulged out of his head when he saw Danny strutting around in nothing but a towel.

And it had just gotten better and better. Because he was right, Martin did blush all over. Every inch of skin that Danny could see had turned a lovely shade of pink. And Martin has been practically mesmerized by the towel (the smallest one he'd been able to find) wrapped around his waist.

He made his way into the kitchen, belting out another Elvis song on his way. The whole fever thing had been genius, if he did say so himself. He'd only intended to prance around a bit, to let Martin get a good look at him, to take his revenge on Martin for what happened last night. But shit, Martin had gone all red and speechless and inspiration struck. So Danny had gone with it, he'd sat down nearly on top of Martin and practically felt him up while he checked to see if Martin had a "fever."

Martin had been just about to kiss him when Danny jumped up and went on the hunt for aspirin. He'd been just about to let him kiss him too. That was the only downside to this whole seduction scheme. Danny had the same _ fever _ Martin was suffering from. His own dick had practically pitched a tent in that towel. Hell, he'd had to make a run for it before Martin turned the tables on him again. Just like last night. He felt his own cheeks go red as he thought about the night's events.

It had been perfectly innocent, well, maybe innocent wasn't the best word for it. He'd had it all planned out. Maybe it was a little unscrupulous, but he was just going to ask Martin a few questions, to make sure that his suspicions, his hopes, were on target. So, he'd headed into the bedroom to do a little after-hours interrogation.

_ The Night Before_

In the light filtering in from the open bedroom door, he could see Martin's pale skin gleaming against the dark sheets. Martin was lying on his back in the center of the bed, arms outstretched on either side. The blanket had slipped down to his waist, leaving his smooth chest exposed.

Danny settled himself on the edge of the bed. He debated turning on the bedside lamp but decided against it. Even though he was sure the view would be even better by lamplight, he needed to keep Martin as disoriented as possible.

He leaned over, pressing his mouth nearly to Martin's ear. "Martin, Martin, I need you to listen to me." He waited for a reaction. Nothing. Martin continued the sleep of the dead, chest rising and falling evenly, a few soft snores slipping out.

Danny tried again, this time placing his hands on Martin's bare shoulders and shaking gently. He whispered a little louder. "You asleep? Can you hear me?"

Martin let out a low moan and turned his head away, revealing the line of his throat. Danny stared at the skin there. He'd dreamed about kissing that throat, biting it, sucking it, leaving his mark. He wanted to lay claim to Martin. Unable to resist he let one finger slide down the exposed skin, resting lightly against the pulse point. Martin moaned again, the sound making Danny's cock stir.

If Martin kept making such sexy noises he might have to rethink his whole no drunk sex rule. And did it count as drunk sex if only one person was drunk? Because Danny was stone-cold sober. In fact, maybe a night of throwaway sex could be the start of something…Back on task Taylor. Look at the big picture. Reluctantly he drew his finger back.

He cleared his throat and tried again, this time his voice stern. "Martin, listen to me." He shook him again ignoring the sounds of protest the other man was making. "I need you to pay attention."

Martin's eyes slid open, "Wha…what?"

Danny leaned in closer. Time to work the 'old Danny Taylor magic. "Listen Martin. I've been thinking about what you said about Sam. Are you sure there's nothing between you anymore? Nothing you want to try and save?"

He ignored Martin's grunt, shaking him again when his eyes slid shut.

"Because if you wanna try and make it work there are books you can read, you know, maybe one of those Mars and Venus things." He dug his fingers into Martin's shoulders, waiting for a response. "Or, I've got a friend who does couples therapy, she could—"

"Noooo," the word was a combination of groan and sigh. "Go 'way." His words were slurred but the irritation came through loud and clear as Martin rolled over, his back to Danny.

Danny slid closer, stopping only when his hip was pressed against Martin's back. He took a deep breath, now for phase two. "Well, we need to figure out what the problem is 'cause Sam's a great catch, if you like that type."

Martin pulled one of the pillows over his head.

Danny pulled the pillow away and leaned down, his mouth against Martin's ear. "She your type?" His hand had a mind of its own, that wayward finger sliding along Martin's side. "She's Jack's type. And Jack's a sexy guy, could probably have anybody he wanted."

No response. Danny pressed his lips together. Martin may not be talking but Danny could tell he was awake from the hitch in his breathing.

He let the finger take the return trip back up Martin's side, dipping down to brush his ribs. "I said Jack's a sexy guy." The rest of his hand joined the finger, now caressing the smooth skin along Martin's back. "Right?" His palm made little circles on Martin's skin.

"Sure," Martin's voice was a little unsteady. "S'ok."

"Maybe Jack's more your type, eh, Fitzie?" Danny let his lips brush against Martin's earlobe, just the barest caress. His hand settled at the small of Martin's back, his index finger tracing along the top of the other man's pajama bottoms. He smiled as Martin pressed back against his hand.

"You ever think about men? Think about Jack?" One finger slid under the waistband brushing along the skin.

He felt a shiver run through Martin. "Sometimes."

Well, this wasn't what he had expected. Danny felt his grin fade. Maybe Jack _ was_ the reason it hadn't worked out between Sam and Martin. Shit, he'd gotten it wrong again.

"But not like you." Martin rolled onto his back, effectively trapping Danny's hand underneath him. His eyes still half-closed as he muttered. "Best ones."

Danny let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest. He wet his lips, momentarily at a loss for words. Then he moved closer, leaning over Martin. "You…you fantasize about me?"

Martin let out a very uncharacteristic giggle. Then his hand shot up and snagged Danny's shirt collar, pulling him down until they were chest to chest, Danny's body half-sprawled on top of him. "Fantasizing' right now."

Even in the darkened room he could see Martin's grin. It was all teeth and dimples, and Danny could suddenly picture Martin as a kid, see him as he must have looked before he learned to conceal his emotions behind a polished veneer. He was all too aware of the half-naked man underneath him. Good god, it felt like there were acres of nearly nude Martin, like Danny had climbed to the top of a mountain of man, the Fitz Alps. And evidently Martin was _ very happy _ that Danny had reached the summit. Even through the blanket Danny could feel the other man's cock pressing against his belly. His own erection was returning the favor, pressing none to gently against Martin's hip.

He took a strangled breath, waiting to see what the other man would do next. He didn't have to wait long, a shudder running through him as Martin's hand settled over the curve of his ass. He fought the urge to grind against the man underneath him. Would it be considered rude to dry hump an incapacitated co-worker? He'd have to remember to bring that up at the next sexual harassment education seminar.

Every time one of them breathed they were pushed closer together. Martin put off an enormous amount of heat, and Danny could feel it pouring off of him, his body heat burning Danny even through his rumpled shirt. His control slipped another notch as Martin made another one of those sexy noises, half-groan, half-grunt, his eyes closing again. They were so close, all Danny had to do was turn his head just the slightest bit and their lips would meet. One kiss. One kiss wouldn't hurt. A kiss wouldn't be taking advantage, right? After all, _Martin was the one who had pulled him down. _

As if reading his mind, Martin's lips parted, ever so slightly. Now, that was an outright invitation. It would be rude if Danny didn't kiss him, would probably offend him, and then where would they be. He _ had _ to kiss Martin, for the sake of their friendship. He shifted, lips moving those last few inches. Then Martin let out a soft snore.

He was asleep. Again.

Danny bit his lip, barely swallowing the "goddamnit" rising in his throat. Martin continued to snore, exhaustion evidently more powerful than lust. Great. Just great. Danny shifted again, trying to ease his hand out from under Martin's back. At least he'd found out what he wanted to know. The other man was definitely interested. He braced his other hand against the mattress and started to push himself up. Then Martin muttered in his sleep and rolled over, taking Danny with him.

This time Danny couldn't bite back his hysterical giggle. He was trapped. _ Under Martin. _ In fact, his whole body was pretty well draped with a solid mass of sleeping Martin. Only the hand that had been trapped under Martin's back was free. Danny pressed the hand into Martin's shoulder and pushed. Nothing. The man was a block of solid unmoving super-heated muscle.

And Martin might be exhausted, but not _ all _ of him was too tired to play. Because the blanket had slid down and Danny could feel Martin's very awake erection pressing against his own quite alert cock. Martin's face was against Danny's throat, and each hot breath against his neck made Danny shiver. His dick was swollen and hot, and the urge to buck up, to feel the rough slide of cock against cock was overwhelming.

He tried to think about baseball. Anything and everything except the fact that he was covered in Martin. Nothing worked. Finally he gave in, one thrust of his hips, the pain/pleasure of sensitized flesh grinding making him moan. Martin's answering moan against his neck and oh Jesus, it felt like his cock was going to burst. There was a growing wet spot on the front of his pants and if he didn't do something soon he was going to come in his pants like a horny teenager. He tried not to move again, but it was useless, he was about to embarrass himself in a very wet, very sticky way.

He was almost resigned to his fate when Martin rolled off him and suddenly he was free. He lay there gasping for a moment before scrambling off the bed and heading for the door. Behind him he could hear Martin's snores, now a little louder.

He pulled the bedroom door shut behind him and staggered the last few steps to the couch on shaky legs. His breathing was ragged and his erection showed absolutely no sign of subsiding on its own. He did his best to ignore it as he threw himself down on the couch muttering "Paybacks are hell, Fitzie."

_The Day After the Night Before_

And so this morning he'd taken his revenge. Gave Martin back a little of what he'd been dishing, asleep or not.

Danny couldn't keep the smirk off his face as he rattled around in the kitchen, spending an inordinate amount of time standing in front of the open refrigerator door, letting the cool air dissipate the remnants of his erection. Finally he got around to fixing Martin a glass of water and snagged a couple of aspirins.

He started back to the bedroom, merely humming instead of singing. Maybe he should let his towel slip completely off, see what effect that had on Fitzie.

He was nearly to the bedroom door when Martin met him, fully dressed except for the tie sticking out of his pocket. Martin took the aspirin and water gratefully, downing them without a word. Danny did his best nonchalant, I'm only wearing a towel don't I look sexy pose, leaning against the wall.

"Feeling better?"

"Little bit." Martin's eyes met his for a moment before sliding away. "Thanks for um, looking out for me last night." The blush was back. "I appreciate it." He moved a little closer. "I'm going to head out though. My new place isn't too far from here. I think the walk would do me good."

"No problem." Danny shifted, letting a little more thigh show. "That's what friends are for." God, Martin was adorable, all rumpled and hung-over and embarrassed. His cock twitched. Baseball. Think about baseball. "Maybe now that Goldilocks is out of the picture we can hang out again. Like old times." His stomach felt funny, a little flutter of worry settling in as he waited for Martin's response. For all Danny's plots and schemes and his hope for something more, he missed Martin. Missed their friendship.

Martin gave a strangled little laugh, his eyes meeting Danny's again, holding his gaze for a long moment. "I'd like that." And then he was moving, grabbing up his coat and heading out the door. "See you on Monday."

"Yeah, Monday." Danny called after him, his smirk back in full force. Monday offered a whole world of possibilities.  



	5. Paranoid

  
_A paranoid is a man who knows a little of what's going on._  
William Burroughs (1914- )

  


Monday

  
Martin rubbed the back of his neck trying to get rid of what felt like a permanent kink in the muscle. Monday had been a total bust. He glanced at his watch, almost nine p.m. He should have known it was going to be a bad day from the way it started.

Sam had caught him by surprise with the whole wedding thing, acting like she actually wanted to go. He figured it was just another way for her to try to stick it to Jack. She was going to make Jack work for it this time. Sam was pretty much an expert at playing them off each other. For such a smart guy, Jack could be a real sucker. Imagine, being jealous of Martin because of Sam. Ridiculous.

Still, Sam had looked surprised when Martin ended it, even though, truth be told, there wasn't much to end. She'd been surprised, but not particularly upset and he got the idea that he had sort of stolen her thunder. No doubt she'd expected to be the one to say the words out loud, to make it official.

Jack, with his impeccable timing, had walked up in the middle of things. From his perspective it probably looked like Sam and Martin were still hot and heavy. Fabulous. He was back on Jack's shit list, hence the desk duty on the Daisy Thorpe case. He only hoped that Sam set the record straight with Jack while they were on the road. Maybe Jack would back off of him if he knew the field was clear. He was betting Sam hadn't said a damn word though. She probably intended to play "unavailable" as long as she could.

At least the case had ended well. Or as well as could be expected where incest and the murder of an innocent man was involved. But, Daisy Thorpe was alive. Damaged, but alive. Not a fairy tale ending by any stretch of the imagination, but better than finding her dead.

He bit back a yawn and leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms over his head. He was stiff from sitting all day. He'd either been hunched over his computer, the telephone or a stack of files for the better part of twelve hours. He felt, and probably looked, like shit. Danny, on the other hand, still looked fresh as a daisy.

Better not to think about Danny though. He was still a little confused about what, if anything, happened between the two of them. The only thing he knew for certain was that he should not drink whiskey. Ever. He had spent the last two days going over everything he could remember about Friday night. The upshot was that he still didn't know if he was dreaming or fantasizing or if Danny really had asked him a bunch of crazy questions. Plus, he had a vague, yet very pleasant memory, or fantasy, or dream, or _something_ that involved Danny on top of and/or underneath him in the bed. He was pretty sure that part was a dream. But, dream or not it had tied with the very real _Danny in a towel and stroking Martin's chest_ memory for the **Best Porn in Martin Fitzgerald's Head Award**. He had replayed those tidbits countless times over the last forty-eight hours. If the old wife's tale was true he'd need to shave his palms by now.

He glanced surreptitiously at the other man. Danny was gathering files at the other end of the conference room table while he talked to one of the janitorial crew. His hands were waving about, full of files, as he punctuated his remarks with the usual flurry of motion. It made Martin tired just watching him. Sometimes he thought Danny was half-man, half-Energizer bunny. And both halves loved to drive him crazy.

He hadn't seen much of Danny today, even though they were both office bound. Danny had spent most of the day down in the archives or with one of the computer techs while Martin had been sitting on his ass tracking leads by phone and computer. But Danny had used every moment of their limited interaction to confuse Martin even more.

First there had been those looks, those looks that could only be described as eyefucks. That's how Danny had been looking at him every time Martin looked up. Danny had a way of looking at Martin like he could see into his soul, or, more appropriately, into all the smutty corners of his mind. Like those dark eyes had seen every inappropriate thought Martin had ever had, played out live in technicolor on an IMAX screen. Like Danny knew the majority of those inappropriate thoughts were about him and the various ways Martin wanted to touch him and taste him and…better not to follow that path to its logical conclusion right now.

Then there was the comment. That whole "sounds like your type" deal delivered with Danny's customary smirk. Only problem was Martin didn't know if it sounded like his type because the suspect was blond, or because it was a man. His face scrunched up as he contemplated the comment again. Jesus, he was really starting to get paranoid.

And, maybe it was just his imagination, but he swore Danny had been _ posing_ every time he got within ten feet of Martin. First there was the _ lean over and reach for something across the table so that his ass was showcased _ pose. He'd used that one a lot today. Why bother with walking around to the other side of the table when he could give Martin what felt like a permanent hard-on with a little bend and reach action. That pose was usually followed in quick succession with Danny's second pose the, _ lean against the table way too close to wherever Martin was sitting so that Martin was eye-level with his crotch _ pose. Martin felt his cheeks redden, no further explanation needed on that one. Last but not least was Danny's signature move, the _ Danny can't wait for Martin to get done reading/writing/looking at whatever, so Danny must lean over him so close that Martin's shoulder was pressing against whatever part of Danny was in the vicinity and Martin could smell that sexy Danny smell_. That pose had the option of Danny placing his hand on Martin's shoulder or arm or crotch. Well, maybe not Martin's crotch, but wouldn't that be a fun one.

As if sensing Martin was looking at him, and thinking **BadNastyDirty **thoughts, Danny looked up and smirked at him. God, that damn smirk, how could something be so aggravating and so arousing at the same time. Every time Danny smirked at him Martin was torn between wanting to punch him in the mouth and wanting to put something _in _ Danny's mouth, like his tongue, or his cock. Shit, now he was half-hard again. He shifted in his chair. Great, now Danny was making his way down to Martin's end of the table. Was he strutting? Did men other than George Jefferson strut, because it sure looked like Danny was strutting.

Martin rubbed a hand across his eyes. He was so ready for this day to end. Like, five minutes ago. Before he got a hard-on contemplating Danny's smirk.

"Hey, you look pretty tired." Danny assumed pose number two, leaning against the table close enough that Martin's personal space was extremely violated, close enough that if Martin turned his head his face would be pressed into Danny's crotch. "Still haven't recovered from Friday night I guess."

Okay, that was straightforward enough. Friday night, too much whiskey and too little sleep. Right. But wait, what did he mean recovered? "What about Friday?"

Danny's eyes widened. "Fitzie, don't tell me you've forgotten about our little sleepover." He put the back of his hand to his forehead and let out an exaggerated sigh of despair. "Did it mean so little to you?"

Martin felt the flush creep up from his neck. "You mean when I drank too much and spent the night at your house." He said each word slowly and carefully, gauging Danny's reaction. "And I slept in your bed and you slept on the couch, right?"

"Sure," Danny smirked again. "That's exactly what I meant." He ran a hand through his hair, making it even messier. "Well, except for the me sleeping on the couch part."

Martin felt his mouth drop open. Jesusgodfuck, did that mean what he thought it meant? He cleared his throat, then "What do you mean except for the couch part?"

"Well, I didn't sleep on the couch all night." Danny put a hand on Martin's shoulder in an unprecedented combination of pose 2 and 3.

Martin stared up at him. Dear God, it hadn't been a dream. _ Danny had been in the bed with him._ Which meant that all those other snippets were probably real too, and that meant…well, that meant…He opened his mouth, but had somehow lost the power to string any words together.

"I mean, I stayed up most of the night. Watching TV and," Danny paused, his tongue sliding out to wet his lips. Martin was mesmerized, it was like watching a snake charmer. "Stuff." The hand on Martin's shoulder gave a squeeze. "Then I went to sleep on the couch."

Martin breathed, not even realizing that he'd been holding his breath. Play it cool Fitzgerald. Cool. "Oh, okay." Sigh of relief, regret, something and surely there was some pill he could take to solve this erection problem he had. There were all sorts of pills to create erections, there had to be something he could take to prevent them.

"Anyway," Danny straightened, "I'm gonna head out." The hand on Martin's shoulder was gone and Martin felt strangely bereft without the weight and heat of it. "See you tomorrow."

"Yeah, sure. Tomorrow." He watched Danny go and felt more confused than ever. And, oh shit, Sam was back, and she was heading his way. The never ending day of torment was not quite over yet.  



	6. Anticipation

  
Friday

  
Danny juggled two coffees and a couple of file folders as he stepped off the elevator and made his way to his desk. The week had passed in a blur, since Monday they'd had back to back cases, and it didn't show any sign of letting up. How come they never managed to find anybody during actual office hours? A nine to five workday would be nice once in a while.

At least he'd been out in the field on most of the cases, even if he hadn't been partnered up with Martin. It was like fate, in the form of an angry boss, was out to keep them apart. He had made such good progress with his whole _ drive Martin insane with lust so he jumps my bones _ plan on Monday, and then nothing for the rest of the week.

Ah, Monday. He'd done his best to drape himself over every available piece of furniture in a not so subtle attempt to get Martin to pay attention to him. It had worked too. A couple of times he thought Martin was going to slug him…or kiss him. And that whole exchange about Friday night, Martin had been positively apoplectic by the time Danny got through with his innuendo-laden comments. He was pretty sure that Martin was thisclose to calling him on it. And if he did, Danny was going to lay it all out there. He was gonna make Martin face up to facts and then he was going to throw him over his shoulder and carry him to bed. Well, actually he usually visualized himself as being the one thrown over Martin's shoulder. CavemanMartin, now that was a visual.

But, hey, Danny had been lusting after Martin for years, so he knew all about the slow burn. Time to let Fitzie stew in a little while. Danny could appreciate the buildup, the steamy looks, the little comments, the touches. Then one day one of them, probably him, would strike a match and it would all explode. Hmmm…another interesting visual.

He set the files on his desk along with both coffees. He'd told Martin he would supply the java this morning. It was funny how they'd fallen so easily back into their coffee routine. Taking turns bringing it in, and then drinking it while they chatted.

Those early morning chats about sports, or cases, or how the office wasn't near as nice without Viv around had been the extent of their interaction since Monday. He'd even hung around the office last night hoping to get a little one on one time with Martin but it hadn't worked out. It had been after midnight when they'd all convened back at the office to wrap up the Ferguson case and they were all exhausted.

When Martin walked in he'd been all rumpled and grumpy and had a stain down his shirt and an ink smudge on his cheek and Danny had gone all gooey inside at the sight of him. Something about Martin brought out the nurturer in him and he'd had a vision of dragging Martin back to his apartment and stripping his suit off and giving him a nice hot bath and tucking him into bed. Only, not alone this time. Of course, he'd also had a vision of giving Martin a tongue bath right there on the conference room table.

Danny slid into his chair and took a drink of the coffee, letting his mind conjure up the tongue bath scene. Boy, he'd give a hundred bucks to see the look on Jack's face if he happened upon them in the middle of that little fantasy. Martin spread out across the conference room table, bare flesh contrasting with the dark veneer. Danny going over him inch by inch with lips and tongue and teeth. All that pale skin showing every mark, every bite, every scrape of stubble, every –

"Hey, this for me?" Sam was standing beside his desk, her hand hovering over the extra coffee. "Because I can really use it." She had it up and against her lips before he could respond.

That bitch. "Uh, sure. Whatever." Now, she was trying to cut into his Martin coffee time. He'd been teamed up with Sam every day since Monday, and while he liked Sam and didn't mind working with her, she'd suddenly started asking him for all sorts of advice about Jack, and Martin. _His Martin._ As if. Goldilocks was not getting her hooks back into Martin, no way, no how.

"So, looks like we're teamed up again today." She nodded toward Martin's empty desk. "Jack's got him in the field on the Rodriguez case."

Shit. "He's already gone?" Dear lord, don't let that be a hint of desperation in his voice.

Sam cocked her head and gave him an appraising look. "Jack called him at home. Had him go straight from there to one of Rodriguez's businesses." She perched on this corner of his desk. "You okay?"

Pull it together Taylor. You do not want Sam messing this up. "I'm fine. Just been a long week," he glanced at his watch. "And we've still got a lot of ground to cover before it ends."

"Great, let me grab a couple of things and we'll go."

"Sure." Danny gulped down the rest of his coffee, casting one last longing look at Martin's empty chair.

_Later_

He flipped his cell phone open, "Taylor." He nodded toward Sam, strapping himself into the car as she slid behind the wheel.

"Hey Danny, it's me."

Martin's voice went straight to his cock. "Hey."

"So, we met with Rodriguez's business partner and it looks like it was legit." Martin gave a little laugh. "Well, as legit as a place called Hardhat Harry's can be."

"What?"

"Well, turns out his gentlemen's club really is a gentlemen's club. As in, all men. It's some kind of leather club, or something." Martin's voice was low. "You should see the way these guys are swarming all over Jack. Seems like he's what you call a Daddy type." Martin giggled.

Just like he giggled in bed. Danny shifted a file over his lap, he did not want to get an erection anywhere in Sam's vicinity. "So, Jack's a leather daddy." He grabbed at the armrest as Sam jerked the wheel, sending the car within inches of a city bus.

"Something like that." He could hear the suppressed laughter in Martin's voice, and it was so damn cute. "Anyway, he wants you and Sam to meet us back at the office."

"Sure, we just got done here. Pretty much a dead end in this direction."

"Uh, Danny." Martin was giggling again. Since when was Martin such a giggler? Because giggling Martin conjured up a whole new fantasy involving a feather duster and ticklish spots.

"Yeah."

"Jack says for you to bring some uh, undercover clothes." Martin could barely get the words out between giggles.

Danny's eyes narrowed, he did not like the sound of that. "What do you mean undercover clothes?"

Silence.

"Martin, why do I need undercover clothes? And should Sam bring some too?" He held the phone away from his ear as Martin's giggle became full scale laughter.

Then Jack's voice, "Give me the phone." More Martin giggles.

"Danny, this is Jack. Get some jeans and an appropriate shirt and meet us at the office to get wired." As always, Jack was no nonsense. "Sam doesn't need to bring anything."

"Appropriate shirt?"

A long pause and then Jack spoke again, "Something sexy. Not too butch."

What the hell? He did not like the sinking sensation in his stomach. "Sexy…butch?"

"Sexy." Jack cleared his throat. "I need you to go back to the club tonight with Martin, see if we can get a line on one of Rodriguez's _friends_." He heard a click and then the line went dead. Jack had hung up on him.

Danny closed his phone and leaned his head back against the seat. "Something sexy, but not too butch."

"What's going on?" Sam was staring at him, not the road, mindless of the taxi she almost broadsided.

Danny closed his eyes. Sometimes it was better not no know how close to death he was when Sam drove. "Seems like we need to go by my apartment so I can pick up some clothes."

"I got that part." The wheel jerked again, and Sam muttered a curse. "What's the deal?"

"Seems like," Danny swallowed, his throat feeling all tight. "Seems like Marty and I are going undercover to a leather club that Rodriguez owned." He felt his own giggles rise to the surface. "I'm supposed to be sexy but not too butch."

"Oh." There was a long pause before Sam continued. "Well, that makes sense. Martin's the butch one. Totally."

Danny barely resisted the urge to reach over and scratch her eyes out. He did not need another reminder that Sam had been with Martin. That Sam could classify Martin as "the butch one" because she was speaking from experience. Especially not now. Because, as uncomfortable as Danny was with this whole undercover business, Martin must be ready to pop a gasket.

Danny was going to have to be on his very best behavior tonight. No touches, no comments, no nothing. He had to play this very very carefully or Martin might run the other way.

Unless…he sat straight up in his seat, a grin breaking across his face. Oh yeah, he liked this plan much better. Maybe fate was about to start working with them instead of against them.

Sexy, but not too butch. He could work with that.  



	7. The Enlightenment of Agent Hotpants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Big Daddy Jack, Agent Hotpants &amp; black leather

Friday

  
_ Earlier_

Martin shot Jack an uneasy look as they approached the rear entrance of the club. They had been to several of Rodriguez's businesses over the course of the day with no leads. This was the last one on the list, and it had taken a little digging to even discover Rodriguez had an interest. Seemed like he didn't want the members of the Chamber of Commerce to realize he was half-owner in a "gentlemen's club."

Rodriguez's personal secretary was the one who pointed them in this direction, but she had been pretty rattled when she gave them the address. Of course, she'd seemed like the conservative type, so Martin figured that she was uneasy discussing her boss's venture into the strip club world. She hadn't even called it a strip club, but had used the term "gentlemen's club." Obviously she'd never been to a strip club, because Martin couldn't recall ever seeing anyone he would catergorize as a gentleman with of his limited strip club experience.

But, something wasn't exactly right about the whole club thing. For one, it was called the Double H. Usually strip clubs had a more, well, _sleazy_ name. He could understand if it had been named Double Ds, that, at least, conjured up some kind of image. For another, it was located in a very nice section of Soho and the guys going in the front entrance had mostly been young, good-looking, and well-dressed, even if their taste in clothes did lean a little heavy on the tight jeans and black leather side. Again, not the typical strip club contingent in Martin's experience.

They'd decided to go in the back entrance as a precaution. All the better to catch Rodriguez's partner unawares. Martin dutifully trailed after Jack as they headed down the alley to what he supposed was the stripper's entrance. He had been trailing after Jack all day, and it made him feel vaguely like a kid trailing after his older brother in a determined attempt to play with the big boys. Jack had been giving him the old squinty-eyed, tight-lipped stare all day, like he was just waiting for Martin to fuck up.

It was the common theme of the week. Since Jack caught he and Sam in the midst of their _ discussion_ on Monday, Jack had kept him on a tight leash. Damn Sam and her manipulations. He'd been partnered with Jack nearly every day making the week one tense moment after the next. A couple of times he'd almost blurted it out, told Jack that he and Sam were over and Martin had no interest in pursuing anything. Well, anything with her. He had more than an interest in pursuing Danny. Somehow, he thought it wouldn't be a good idea to bring that up to Jack, at least not in his present frame of mind.

Martin bit back a giggle, sometimes he felt like a geeky fourteen year old girl with a crush on one of the cool kids. The lack of sleep was getting to him again, because he could almost imagine the conversation:

Martin: "So Jack, just thought I'd let you know that Sam and I are over, and we were never much to begin with. So, you can stop busting my balls."

Jack: "I don't know what you're talking about Martin."

Martin: "Let's cut the bullshit. I like Sam, but I don't _like like_ her."

Jack: "Well, why should I believe you suddenly aren't interested in Sam?"

Martin: "Oh my god, because I like totally _like like_ Danny. He's the coolest. Have you ever noticed that he walks like he's having sex. And those eyes, he's so dreamy."

So ** not **the best idea he'd ever had. Please God, let them solve this case soon, because between the long hours and the Danny dreams, both the quantity and quality of his sleep were sadly lacking. Not that he minded the Danny dreams. Problem was he liked them too much. It was a sad state of affairs when a man in his thirties was having to change his sheets on a daily basis. Well, he wouldn't mind the whole sheet changing thing if something more than his own masturbatory urges and yes, he had even had a couple of wet dreams, had contributed to the need for a fresh set. Hey, if those sheets were getting dirtied up from Danny's actual presence and _participation,_ it would be a whole different story.

A quick image of Danny in his bed flashed through his mind. Now, that was a body worthy of the 500 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets his mother had sent him. They were the color of fresh cream and soft as all get out, especially now that they were seeing such heavy rotation though his washing machine. Danny's golden skin and dark hair would be a visual feast against those sheets. That long lean body and dusky skin, and oh so pretty mouth. Jesus, Martin felt like he could spend a week just on Danny's mouth. Tracing it with his fingers, letting his tongue press along the seam before sliding inside to explore, letting his teeth catch hold of that bottom lip and tug at it, nip it, letting his dick slide between those lips, into the hot and wet, and goddamn but Danny would be so pretty with those lips wrapped around Martin's cock.

"Martin," Jack snapped at him, bringing him back to reality. "You need to get your head in the game."

Martin flushed, realizing that he'd gotten distracted _ again_. Jack was pounding on the door to the rear entrance, while giving Martin an impatient look. "Sorry," he muttered.

"Whatever's going on, I'm telling you the same as I told Sam, keep it out of the office. You've been worthless since Monday." Jack was snarling now, his professional façade slipping.

"It's not Sam, it's Danny." The words slipped out before Martin could stop them. Evidently Danny's speaking before thinking disease was contagious. For once Jack was the one who looked confused, his mouth dropping open and eyes going wide as he looked at Martin.

Then the door to the club opened and a shirtless man in tight leather pants let out a shriek of delight and launched himself at Jack. "Oh Daddy, where've you been all my life?"

Martin watched with growing horror as the young man wrapped his arms around Jack's neck saying, "You're even cuter than how Freddie described you."

Jack just stood there for a moment, the stunned look on his face giving away to panic as the man ran a finger across his lips. That got him moving, his hand going for his gun.

Shit! Jack was going to shoot this creature if Martin didn't do something fast. He stepped forward and grabbed the man around the waist, lifting him back and away from Jack, ignoring the man's squeals of protest.

Jack shook his head as if to clear it before sliding his badge out and holding it in front of the man's face. "We're FBI. We're here to ask some questions-"

The man stopped struggling against Martin, his eyes going wide. "FBI, like the X-files? Because honey, you are way hotter than David Duchovny."

Martin felt a giggle bubble up in his throat again. He could almost see the steam coming out of Jack's ears and one of Jack's hands was hovering over his gun again. Martin tightened his grip on the man's waist. "You might want to turn it down a notch. He's serious."

The man turned his attention to Martin. "No offense, you're cute too. But I like my men a little more seasoned." He looked Martin up and down, turning around to face him within the circle of Martin's arms. "You are just what Freddie likes though." He licked his lips and made a loud smacking noise. "Tender."

Martin released the man and took a step back, a blush burning his cheeks. The man took a step toward him. "Oh, it _ blushes_." He made the lip smacking sound again. "Maybe you are my type."

Jack's hand shot out and grabbed the man by the waistband of his tight leather pants, pushing him back against the building's brick wall none too gently. "Get a hold of yourself, Mr…"

The man blinked a couple of times, clearly thrilled to be manhandled. "My name's Quentin Frye, but you," he batted his eyes at Jack and one of Martin's giggles made a break for it. "You can call me anything you want."

Frye, so this was Rodriguez's partner in the club. It clicked for Jack and Martin at the same time. So, this is what the secretary meant by _ gentlemen's club_.

"This is the Double H right?" Jack's voice quivered just the slightest bit.

"Oh, that's just the nickname," Frye gestured toward the open door. "Welcome to Hardhat Harry's."

_Later_

It took nearly ten minutes to make their way across the club to the office. Among the young men who comprised the afternoon crowd at the Double H, Jack was quite popular. Martin blended in pretty well, even if he was a tad overdressed, but Jack was like the bull in a china shop. Except, Martin thought, the china was jumping off the shelves trying to land on the bull.

He snickered again, ignoring Jack's warning look as another young man sidled up to his boss. Jack had been groped by what seemed like every other man in the bar, and the last guy had even reached a hand out to pinch Jack's ass. Jack had caught the offending hand and threatened to break it. To Jack's horror and Martin's amusement the threat had a less than desired effect. The young man it had belonged to had immediately dropped down on his knees in front of Jack and begged "Daddy" for a spanking.

Once they were safely ensconced in Frye's office, it didn't take long for them to determine that Frye was clean. He had, however, pointed them in the direction of a customer whom Rodriguez was friendly with.

"Don't know his name, but the guy comes in all the time, kind of a shady character. Wouldn't talk to the feds." He licked his lips, "Not everyone is cooperative as I am. Guy likes them pretty young though," Frye was perched on the corner of his desk, a little too close to Jack's chair. "Probably wouldn't go for you Big Daddy." He pointed a finger at Martin, "He'd be all over Agent Hotpants though, guy likes the innocent look." He leaned in to Jack, "I like 'em already corrupted. If you know what I mean."

And so it was that nearly two hours after first encountering Mr. Frye, after Jack and Martin had made their way back through the club with only a few more, "please Big Daddy" comments and Martin had gotten_ his_ ass pinched, Martin found himself on the phone with Danny giggling hysterically.

_Even Later_

Martin looked at the leather pants in horror. He had thought Jack was kidding at first about the leather thing. But no, while it was apparently okay for _ Danny _, as back-up, to wear jeans, Martin, as bait, had to wear leather. Tight leather. Tight leather pants that, from the looks of them, were designed for someone not quite Martin's size. He didn't know where Jack had gotten them, but the black leather pants with, oh my god, was that, yes, a _lace up crotch_ were laying on his desk along with a miniscule white t-shirt made out of some sort of stretchy material.

Jack had told him not to worry about stopping to pick up any clothes, that he would take care of it, and now Martin realized why. Jack hated him. Jack was getting payback for Martin's helpless and totally uncontrollable giggling at the Double H and Sam and every bad thought Martin had ever had. Jack was trying to kill him by cutting off the blood flow to the lower half of his body with a pair of too small and did he mention _ lace-up crotch _ leather pants.

Jack suddenly materialized beside him. "What are you waiting for Martin, go get yourself dressed." He met Martin's look of horror with his usual stoneface. "Danny and Sam should be here anytime." He turned and walked back toward his office. "You need to be ready to go so we can review the game plan."

After blinking a few times and realizing that, indeed, this was his real life and not one of those life-like dreams, Martin scooped the offending clothes up and headed for the bathroom. He had the shirt and pants on but was still struggling to figure out how exactly a lace-up crotch worked when Danny opened the bathroom door. Martin looked up, his eyes meeting Danny's in the mirror about the bathroom counter.

"Agent Hotpants, I presume?"

Great. Jack hadn't wasted anytime getting payback for the Big Daddy comments.

Martin opened his mouth to speak but, ohjesusfuck Danny was walking toward where Martin stood and he looked like pure sex in some kind of silky looking dark blue shirt tucked into tight jeans. And, how was it possible for a man to walk like he was making love to the air, hips rocking back and forth in a way that seemed totally natural when Danny did it but would make Martin look like a marionette tangled up in his own strings.

The damn leather pants were suddenly even tighter because now Martin's dick had decided to wake up and take notice of Danny. His fingers fumbled uselessly with the leather cords that held the fly of the pants together and Martin was rethinking that whole decision to ditch his boxer shorts because the fabric got twisted between the leather and his skin. Because now his bare cock was pushing quite insistently against the supple leather and there's no way Danny wouldn't notice that Martin's erection was pressing against the half open fly.

"Need a little help?" And damnit Danny had that knowing look in his eyes and the smirk to end all smirks on his face. Martin still couldn't speak, but his whole body felt like it was on fire as blood rushed to the surface of his skin.

Danny walked up to stand behind Martin, their eyes still locked in the mirror and the little voice in Martin's head was screaming _thiscan'tbehappening_, because Danny's hands were reaching around him. And Martin's dick was screaming right back, telling his head to _SHUTTHEFUCKUP_, because Danny's front was pretty well plastered to Martin's back as the other man moved even closer. His chin just brushing the top of Martin's shoulder and they were almost cheek to cheek and christonacracker Danny was giving him that eyefuck look in the mirror, dark eyes promising things Martin didn't even know existed. And Danny's hands were brushing Martin's hands away from the leather laces on his pants and those long nimble fingers were hovering over his crotch and pulling the fly of his pants all the way closed, fingertips sliding along the laces with slow strokes and every movement was transmitted through the leather to Martin's dick.

Martin fought the urge to close his eyes, the warring desire to lean back into Danny's body and arch up against Danny's hands. But it was a futile fight because Danny was hard too and Martin could feel the other man's erection against his ass and it was the best thing he could ever imagine feeling, and who knew skintight leather amplified heat and sensation. Oh god Danny's hands slid from the laces to rest on Martin's hips and then Danny swiveled _his_ hips just enough to make his erection press even harder against Martin's ass. Then Martin couldn't close his eyes, couldn't look away from Danny's reflection in the mirror because Danny had a look of pure desire on his face, and he was doing that thing where he nibbled at his lower lip and –

"You guys done yet?" Sam was knocking on the bathroom door. "Jack says we need to get a move on."

Danny made a sound, somewhere between a groan and a curse and Martin hated Sam with every fiber of his being for interrupting them. They shared a look of pure frustration in the mirror and then Danny's hands slid away and he took a step back.

Martin braced himself against the countertop, his knees suddenly weak and he gave a little laugh, a sound of confusion and wonder and at last, enlightenment. Because what in god's name were they doing in the bathroom with Sam and Jack and whoever the hell else just outside the door. And why oh why wasn't there a lock on the door.

Then Danny's voice, for once without a trace of teasing, all rough and unsteady as he said, "I'll see you out there." Turning away, but not before one last long look. Martin watching Danny's reflection as the other man untucked his shirt so it hung down to disguise the erection clearly outlined by tight jeans.

Martin watching him go, waves of frustration crashing through him and he felt like he'd just run ten miles. Straining to make out whatever Danny was muttering as he pushed through the door and out into the hall, and Martin swore it was something about baseball.


	8. The Fulfillment in Two Parts

  
Danny pushed through the bathroom door and nearly collided with Sam.

"Hey, I was just about to come in there. Something wrong?" She was looking at him funny, her hand grabbing his wrist to stop him from walking past.

He shook his head, barely resisting the urge to put his hands around her throat and squeeze. Her timing was for shit. "It's fine, Martin was just having a little trouble figuring out the pants Jack got him."

Sam gave a little laugh, "Yeah, Jack said that he had something special for Martin. Does he need me to help him?"

Danny's fist clenched, why that little bleached blond… "No, I think he's got it under control now." One good thing about Sam, she could be counted on to wilt an erection anytime Danny got within ten feet of her. She had the same effect on him as getting a glass of ice water dumped down his pants. "Just give him a minute."

"Sure," she gave him another odd look before turning away and heading for the conference room. He followed close behind her, trying to determine if the imaginary dagger he was stabbing her with had any effect.

Jack was waiting for them, pacing around the table and shooting impatient looks toward the doorway. "Where's Martin?"

Danny gave him his best placating look, "He's on his way."

Jack's lips tightened then he nodded toward the techie sitting at the other end of the table. "Vickers here is going to wire you." A ghost of a smile appeared, "I don't think Martin will have any place to hide a wire."

The techie was all business and had almost finished with Danny when Martin appeared in the doorway, his eyes still a little dazed. Danny watched as the other man slid into the chair across from Sam and looked anyplace except at Danny. Shit. Maybe he'd pushed too hard, come on too strong. But, damn it, he'd walked into the bathroom and Martin was a living breathing wet dream in black leather pants, and Danny couldn't resist.

Even now his fingers could feel the slide of leather over a hard cock, and jesus, he had to stop thinking about it because he was pretty sure Vickers would get the wrong idea if Danny's wayward erection made an appearance. But now Jack was talking so he had to concentrate on the game plan and not think about Martin and black leather and how the other man's ass begged for Danny's hands. And shit, Jack was talking _ to_Danny, and all Danny could do was nod.

"So," Jack was saying, "you need to stick close to Martin, make sure things don't get out of hand. Frye has agreed to introduce Martin to our target as a 'friend' of Rodriguez's. Seems like the target and Rodriguez liked to share 'friends.' That'll be our hook."

Danny shot a glance at Martin, to see how the other man was taking his role as manbait. Sure enough his cheeks were flushing a dull red as the implication of Jack's words sunk in.

Jack turned his attention to Martin, "This is strictly a fact finding operation. This guy may not be involved at all, or he may be the reason Rodriguez disappeared. Frye has offered to point him in your direction. You just have to bring the conversation around to Rodriguez and see what comes up. If things get out of hand, you signal Danny and we'll be inside in under a minute."

Martin nodded, eyes still fixed on Jack. "Got it."

Forty-five minutes later Danny sidled up to the bar at the Double H and took a seat a few stools down from where Martin sat talking to one of the bartenders who, from Jack's description, could only be Quentin Frye. He and Martin had made their way to the bar separately on the off chance that the target was watching. Sam had dropped Danny off a couple of blocks away while Jack did the same with Martin. That meant Danny got the added bonus of hearing Sam comment on how well Martin's leather pants fit.

Martin's eyes caught his in the mirror above the bar, and for a minute they were back in the bathroom, staring at each other's reflection as hands slid over tight leather. Then Martin gave a little nod and turned his attention back to Frye. Frye caught the movement and turned his head, his eyes going wide as he surveyed Danny.

Danny watched as Frye leaned in and whispered something to Martin. Martin shook his head, and even under the dim bar lights Danny could see the pink spread across the other man's cheeks. Something tightened in his chest, because damnit, _ he_ was the one who was supposed to make Martin blush. He felt a surge of jealousy when Frye's hand snaked out to pat playfully at Martin's cheek. He was only slightly mollified with Martin jerked his head back and caught Frye's hand. Frye said something else and motherfuck, Martin was smiling now and saying something back that made Frye laugh out loud.

Danny's whole body tensed, the urge to pummel the life out of Frye rising up. Then Jack's voice was coming through the earpiece and Danny remembered that he was on the job. "Are you in position?"

Danny rubbed a finger across his lip, using the movement to cover his reply. "Yes. I'm close, but not too close."

"Good. Somebody fitting the target's description is approaching the bar. Maintain radio silence unless you need us."

Danny rolled his eyes, sometimes Jack took this whole cloak and dagger bit a little too seriously. His eyes met Martin's in the mirror again, a quick glance and then Martin looked away, leaning in to say something else to Frye. Frye nodded and made a loud lip-smacking sound that Danny could hear even from his position more than ten feet away Well hell, was Martin actually flirting with that guy? The flare of jealousy was back. Two could play that game. And Martin was way out classed in the flirting department, that was Danny's specialty.

With that in mind he gave the other bartender a blazing smile as he ordered his club soda. The bartender, a slender young man with curly blond hair, responded with a smile of his own and within minutes he was leaning across the bar giving Danny his full attention. Danny cast a glance in Martin's direction, and sure enough the other man was watching him. Take that! He ran a hand through his hair and gave the bartender his best _ I am a sex god, worship at my feet _ look before peeking back at Martin.

Martin's eyes had narrowed, his lips pulled tight as he watched Danny with the bartender. He said something to Frye, then deliberately turned his back on Danny and started talking to the man sitting on the other side of him. Meanwhile Frye made his way down to Danny, hissing something at the blond that made him blanche and scurry to the other end of the bar.

Danny pasted his usual smirk on his face as Frye leaned in to talk to him. "Hello lover, where've they been hiding you?" Frye returned Danny's smirk with one of his own and for a minute Danny lost his train of thought. Had he just been out-smirked? Frye waggled his eyebrows, "Agent Hotpants says you need to get your mind back on the job." He ran a finger along Danny's hand where it rested on the bar. "Those repressed types are always so delicious when you get them to open up. I do think he's jealous, " he gave a little pout. "And I am seriously considering a career with the FBI."

Danny's smirk was replaced with a glare as he snatched his hand away. "My mind is right where it's supposed to be."

Frye leaned even closer and Danny finally understood what it meant to be the invadee rather than the invader in the whole violation of personal space thing. "Well, I hope so Rico Suave, because the guy you've been waiting for just came in and I need to go play matchmaker for your _partner_." Then Frye gave him a wink and was gone, sliding back down the bar to coo at Martin some more.

Danny shook his head and turned to survey the man edging his way through the crowd. Jesus christ, the guy was huge. He looked like a casting call reject from the Terminator, decked out head to toe in tight black leather. He saw Martin's eyes go wide when he spotted the man, and it was the first time Danny had actually seen a person embody the phrase "like a deer in headlights." As he watched Frye signaled toward the man, gesturing for him to come to the bar.

"Buy you a drink?"

"Huh," Danny realized someone had sat down next to him. "Oh, no thanks. I'm waiting for somebody." When he turned back to Martin he found that the other man was seated next to him and eying Martin like a starving man eyes a buffet. Martin was smiling at the man, and, wait a minute, now Martin was letting his hand slide along the other man's arm. And Danny knew it was all part of the plan, that Martin had to act interested in the hopes that the man would reveal something about Rodriguez, but if didn't change the fact that Martin was _ touching_ another man. Martin was smiling and blushing and by god now he was taking a page from Danny's book of flirting and biting his bottom lip.

Despite all the clichés about fiery Latin tempers Danny had never been a jealous man. And technically Martin wasn't even his lover _ yet_. But Danny wanted nothing more than to grab Martin and kiss him senseless before dragging him as far away from the Double H as possible. And it was a good thing that he didn't have his gun because the other man's hand had dropped to Martin's lap and even though the bar blocked his view, Danny had a pretty good idea where that hand had gone because Martin had a look of pure panic on his face when his eyes met Danny's in the mirror over the bar.

Danny was on his feet and halfway to Martin when Jack's voice came across the earpiece again. He stopped in his tracks as he listened to what Jack had to say and muttered something back before very deliberately disabling the transmitter. Both Martin and Frye were watching him as he took those last couple of steps but the Terminator lookalike didn't notice him.

Now he could see that the other man's hand was on Martin's thigh and not his crotch, but that wasn't much consolation. He really thought he showed great restraint when he merely reached out and removed the offending hand, stepping between Martin and the other man in the process. He draped his other arm around Martin's shoulder and leaned into him. He met the other man's "what the hell" with a dazzling smile and then turned to Frye.

"Quentin, I told you to keep an eye on Martin." He leaned in until his lips were less than an inch away from Martin's ear, "I just can't leave you alone for a minute now can I, Snugglebear? You know it's not nice to lead the poor man on. Nobody likes a cocktease." He gave his best apologetic look to the other man. "Sorry about that, he can be a terrible flirt."

The other man looked Danny up and down, his angry look fading. "No problem. Although I'd love the chance to join you. Maybe I could help you teach him a little lesson." The man reached a hand out to cup Martin's chin. "The sweet looking ones are always the troublemakers."

Martin jerked his head away and Danny was saved from answering when Frye piped up, "I just want to watch."

Martin let out what could only be classified as a hysterical giggle and Danny knew he had to get him out of there fast. "Well, uh, we'll keep it in mind. But Marty here's pretty shy." He gave an exaggerated yawn. "We really should be going anyway if we're going to make it to Jack's." He gave Martin's shoulder a squeeze and looked at Frye. "You won't mind if we duck out the back will you? My ex just came in and I'd just as soon avoid a scene."

Frye was looking from Danny to Martin, his eyes bobbing back and forth like he was watching a tennis match. "Sure Sweetums, Hotpants there knows the way." The dreaded Hotpants moniker seemed to break Martin out of his daze, and Danny stepped back so he could slide off his barstool.

"Um, see you." Martin nodded toward Frye and the other man, then turned to Danny. "Follow me."

"Oh, don't worry," Danny winked at Frye before looking at Martin, "I'd follow that ass anywhere." Martin's mouth opened, and then closed, and without another word he started making his way through the crowded club, Danny close behind.

It took several minutes for them to wind their way through the crowd and out the service entrance. Then they were outside, the cool air a welcome relief from the club. Danny had barely made it through the back door when Martin grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him back against the brick wall with enough force to knock the breath out of him.

"What the hell was that Danny? You didn't give me time to get anything out of that guy before you barged in?" Martin's hands tightened on his shoulders, and Danny realized that the other man was furious.

"Hey, man, it's okay. Jack said that Rodriguez showed up at his cousin's house tonight. He had a little bit of a nervous breakdown, just needed to get away from it all." Danny's hands came up to rest on Martin's chest as he tried to push the other man back a little bit. It was like trying to move a mountain. "Jack and Sam are waiting back at the office. Besides you looked like you needed to be rescued." He tried without success to keep the smirk off his face, but couldn't resist adding. "Snugglebear."

Martin leaned in until their mouths were inches apart, his eyes locked with Danny's as he spoke. "I can take care of myself." He paused, and Danny saw the anger change to something else, "And you're the cocktease." Then Martin's mouth was on his and Danny could feel it all, the longing, anger, frustration, and pure unadulterated lust. Everything that had been simmering between the two of them for the last three years suddenly boiled over.

Martin was rough, his lips bruising, his tongue forcing its way into Danny's mouth sliding over lips and tongue and teeth and Danny wanted it all. His hands slid around Martin's back, pulling him in closer, his moan swallowed by Martin's mouth. Martin was pressing Danny against the wall, his whole body moving forward until they were connected from mouth to knee. Danny could feel Martin's erection against his thigh, the combination of denim and leather and hard cock making him shudder. His own dick was pressed against Martin's belly, hard and hot and insistent. This is what he'd wanted for so long, what he'd dreamed about, fantasized about.

His hands were sliding along Martin's back, pulling the stretchy t-shirt up and seeking the flesh underneath, finally able to roam freely over all that pale skin. Martin's hands had moved up from Danny's shoulders to tangle in his hair, hands cradling his skull until all Danny could feel was Martin. Then Martin nipped him, teeth sharp as they pressed into his bottom lip, pain and pleasure chasing each other as Martin's teeth slid along his lip, sucking and scraping until Danny shuddered, hips thrusting against Martin, his cock weeping as he ground himself against Martin's belly.

Martin's mouth tore free of his, his breath coming in gasps and Danny realized his fingers were digging into Martin's back, fingertips leaving a trail of chill bumps in their wake. Martin's hands in his hair tightened, pulling Danny's head back, his mouth grazing Danny's cheek before settling at his neck. And god yes, Danny's turn to moan as Martin's tongue traced circles, mouth seeking the pulse point, teeth just this side of savage as he bit down and then sucked, and that was going to leave a mark but Danny didn't care because Frye was right it was the repressed ones that were so delicious and Danny was going to come right here against Martin's belly. And it wasn't enough, would never be enough, the scent and taste and feel of Martin surrounding him and then Martin's hands slipped free of his hair and slid down to settle over Danny's hips, shifting over and up until they were cock against cock, rough denim and slick leather. And then they were both thrusting, grinding, trying to crawl into each other's skin, Danny's hands sliding over the curve of Martin's ass and pulling him even tighter, his breath ragged, head back, eyes closing.

Then Martin's voice, rough, more growl than anything else against Danny's ear. "Look at me," his hands digging into Danny's hips.

And then Danny was looking at him, and Martin was the best thing he'd ever seen, cheeks flushed, blue eyes hazy, lips red and swollen. And then, oh god, he was coming, back arching, hips thrusting, his fingers digging into Martin's ass and he rode the wave, eyes still locked with Martin's. Then Martin's groan, his eyes going wide, and body going tense and Martin was coming too and the world was nothing but heat and the need for air and wet denim and sticky leather and flesh too sensitive to be touched but they couldn't break apart, because goddamn, everything before, everybody before, had just been practice for this. Martin's lips settling back over his, this time gentle as they trembled against each other and Danny couldn't stand up, and Martin had collapsed into him and only the wall at his back kept them standing.

His hands still around Martin's back and cradling him close, both of them gasping for air. Martin's head buried against his neck, each breath making Danny shudder a little bit more. They were hot and sweaty and sticky despite the cool night air and it didn't matter. Didn't matter that they were friends and partners and now lovers and that they should be on their way back to the office.

Because Danny didn't care if he never moved again, because if fully clothed, up against an alley-wall sex was this good, he couldn't imagine what it would feel like to have Martin spread out on his bed that whole body ripe and waiting and what would it feel like to be in Martin or to have Martin in him and good god he was starting to get hard again and Martin's lips were moving against his throat and damn it, Danny's ass was actually vibrating, and that was a new one on him, and then he realized that the cell phone in his back pocket was ringing.


	9. Wetdreams

Tight leather pants are not comfortable. Even a little. Add a warm sticky substance to the tight leather pants, and the level of _not comfortable_ doubles. Warm sticky substances didn't absorb into leather, it just stayed sticky, and hot. Martin actually thought he was squishing a little with each step he took. And the whole running for the car bit after Danny got the phone call from Sam had not helped. They'd still been holding on to each other, Martin pretty well collapsed against Danny, when Danny's stupid telephone started ringing.

He'd only heard Danny's end of the conversation, basically a bunch of stammered excuses about not being able to find where Sam had parked the car and some trouble at the club, but the very thought of Sam on the other end of that telephone call had the same effect as accidentally seeing your grandmother naked. In other words, it killed the whole mood pretty quickly and pretty thoroughly.

He'd backed off and Danny had taken off, gesturing for Martin to follow him as he headed toward the car. Which, it turned out, was parked in front of the club. So much for that excuse.

They'd made the ride back to the building in silence, and now they were making the long elevator ride from the parking garage to the office in silence. And not the good kind of, _we're so comfortable with each other, we don't even have to talk_ silence. More like the _ what in god's name were we doing in the alley behind a gay bar making out while we're supposed to be on a job_ kind of silence.

So, Martin was starting to freak out a little. He was usually so in control, but that had totally gone out the window where Danny was concerned. He didn't like the loss of control, but if it meant he got to have hot up against the wall sex with Danny, he figured he could deal with it. What was really freaking him out was the total absence of Danny's inane chattering, smirks or invasion of Martin's personal space. Because Danny didn't not talk. No matter what was going on, Danny had something to say. And he hadn't. Said. A. Word.

Of course, Martin hadn't said anything either. But, he was Martin. He was the quiet one who only occasionally commented. The strong silent type. Danny was the talker. And Danny wasn't talking. And suddenly Martin thought maybe _ he_ should say something. Because maybe Danny didn't know what to say. But if Danny didn't know what to say, how the hell was Martin supposed to know what to say. Maybe he could ask Danny if it was possible to die from the suffocation of one's lower body by sticky tight leather pants? He shifted from one foot to the other, and this time there was an audible squishing sound, and he knew he wasn't imagining it because Danny had turned to look at him, or more specifically at his crotch.

And Danny looked like he was going to say something, and Martin realized that it was the first time they'd really _looked_ at each other in the whole mad dash to get back to the office. Because, leather might be hot and not very sticky friendly, but the good thing was black leather didn't show much. The same could not be said about denim, because Danny had a very noticeable wet spot on his crotch. And now that he got a good look at him, Danny's shirt was half-tugged out of his pants, and his lips were swollen, and his hair was even messier than usual. Seemed like Martin remembered messing that hair up at some point when he was molesting Danny back in that alley.

Danny was giving him the same once-over, cocking his head to the side as he examined Martin. That was when Martin saw the bite mark. He definitely remembered kissing and sucking and all right, there was the proof, he must have **bitten** Danny's neck too. Because there was a blemish on the smooth golden skin of Danny's throat, and the blemish was a bite mark that Martin knew would perfectly match his teeth. Another one of those hysterical giggles bubbled up because Danny looked like a man who had just been well, molested – and then the elevator doors were sliding open and wouldn't you know it, Jack and Sam were waiting for them. Martin's only hope was that maybe they had been stuck by some sort of temporary blindness and wouldn't notice.

"What the hell is on your neck?"

He really was going to have to strangle Sam. Shit.

Danny had stepped out of the elevator and turned to greet Sam and Jack, and Sam had spotted the bite mark immediately. Martin watched as Danny registered Sam's words, his hand going up to rub at the mark, coming to an abrupt stop directly in front of Martin. Unfortunately Martin didn't realize the other man was stopping, so he plowed into the back of him, knocking Danny into Sam.

He watched with a sort of sick fascination as Danny went sprawling on top of Sam. Sam letting out a very unladylike grunt as Danny's full weight fell on her, Danny trying without success to stop his fall, managing only to get a hand caught in Sam's hair as they thudded to the floor. It was sort of like one of those slow motion scenes in a movie, only in real life.

"Jesus, Danny."

"Sorry. Just let me-" Long arms and legs for once not graceful as Danny tried to untangle himself from Sam.

"You're pulling my hair!" She was definitely pissed.

"That's-ow. Watch your knees." Danny sounded pissed too.

"Ewww. You're all wet. What's all over your pants?"

Then Jack was stepping in and offering a hand to Sam and Danny was scrambling up on his own, a frantic look on his face. Martin could almost see the wheels turning in Danny's head as the other man tried to come up with an explanation for both the bite mark and his wet pants. So he started talking.

"We uh, had a little bit of a problem getting out of the bar." Martin was making up his explanation as he went along. "Rodriguez's friend got a little too friendly." He snuck a look at Jack, trying to see if the other man was buying it. "We had to pretty well fight our way out. Guy bit Danny, and that's probably beer on his pants." Jack did not look convinced.

"I knew we shouldn't have left until you got out." Sam shot a disapproving look at Jack. "But Danny said it would be fine." Now she was glaring at Danny.

Crap.

"I'm sure Martin and Danny were able to handle anything that," Jack paused like he was tasting the words before he said them, "Came up." Jack was staring at him, and Martin could feel the tell-tale heat of blood rushing to the surface of his skin. Jack was definitely not buying the whole bar fight story. "Now let's wrap it up so we can all head home…or wherever." He arched an eyebrow at Martin, and Martin knew, just knew, that Jack had a pretty good idea about why they were late. Sam looked confused, Danny looked bewildered and Jack looked like Jack always looked as they all filed back into the conference room, Martin bringing up the rear, trying to walk slowly so the squishing noise wasn't so loud.

Just sitting in the conference room and listening to Jack summarize the latest on Rodriguez was enough activity to make him break out in a sweat and Martin was pretty sure it was possible to suffocate from the combination of body heat, stickiness and tight leather pants. Not to mention that he was sitting directly across from a disheveled, heavy-eyed Danny who kept giving Martin lazy looking smiles and doing that lip-biting routine again. That kicked Martin's body temperature up at least ten degrees. Especially since he knew what those lips felt like and tasted like now.

Luckily, every time he got too distracted by Danny, Sam would accidentally brush her leg against his under the table or lean across him to reach for a file. She was sitting beside him, way too close. Maybe she and Danny were having a contest to see who could invade Martin's personal space more. More likely she was still toying with Jack. Jack seemed strangely unaffected by it all. If anything he seemed to find Sam's behavior humorous. Especially since every time Sam brushed against him Martin jumped about two feet.

Danny on the other hand did not seem unaffected. After the third reach across by Sam, wherein once again she managed to press the side of her breast against Martin's arm, Danny shoved the entire stack of files at her, hard. Muttering, "Sorry about that," when the files slammed into her chest.

To Martin's great relief they were done in about half an hour. Jack giving them the whole, good job speech and telling them to have a good weekend. Martin was pretty sure he wasn't imagining the appraising look Jack gave Danny, before turning to give the same look to Martin. Then they were free to go, and without a word Martin followed Danny out to the elevator.

"Hey." Maybe Sam was talking to somebody else. "Martin." Guess not.

He stopped, turning to find her propped up against the wall a few feet away. "Yeah?"

"How about I drive you home?" She gave him a little half smile. "Jack picked you up this morning didn't he?"

Shit. He glanced at Danny, the other man's back was to him, his finger jabbing the down button for the elevator repeatedly and with way more force than necessary. "Um, I think, uh, Danny's going to give me a ride."

Jack stepped out into the hall as Martin spoke and who knew Jack could giggle? Evidently that was a new one on Sam too, because she turned to stare at Jack, that confused look on her face again. Then the elevator doors were open and he and Danny were safely inside and Danny was pretending not to hear Sam call out as he pressed the door close button. And he hoped to hell that there weren't video cameras in the elevator because Danny was pushing him back against the elevator wall.

"Paybacks are hell, Fitzie." Danny was crowding him, his palms slapping against the wall on either side of Martin's head. His voice was low, his mouth close enough that Martin could feel his breath against his cheek. "When we get back to my apartment, I'm going to strip those clothes off of you, and then I'm going to see just how marked up I can get you." Danny's chest was pressed against his, and dear god, Martin wanted to lean forward and close the distance between them until they were kissing. But Danny must have sensed it, because he stepped back and glanced up at the corner of the elevator, letting Martin know that, yes, there were cameras in here and it probably just looked like they were having another one of their fights.

Martin stayed on his side of the elevator, his heart beating like he'd just ran a four minute mile. He supposed he had his answer now for the question he'd been afraid to ask, because Danny must not be regretting the alley incident if he was already planning round two. Danny leaned against the far elevator wall, his mouth twisted into a smirk, his hand going up to stroke along the bite mark on his neck as he stared at Martin. And please god, don't let there be a lot of traffic, because it had been a really long time since Martin had sex in a car, but that was going to be a very real possibility if it took more than a few minutes to get to Danny's apartment because his cock was hard again and he was pretty sure that Danny's was the same.

God or somebody must've been listening, because they made the drive to Danny's apartment in under twenty minutes. And this time Martin wasn't bothered by Danny's strange silence because, every so often, Danny would look at him when they were stopped at an intersection or waiting for a break in the traffic. Nobody had ever looked at Martin the way Danny was looking at him, and Martin might be going slightly insane because he could literally _feel_ Danny's eyes on him and that feeling made him let out another nervous little giggle and since when did he giggle like a little girl. But he was still giggling as he followed Danny up the stairs.

Then they were inside and Danny was locking the door, the sound of the deadbolt sliding home sending a shiver of anticipation through Martin and his giggles evaporated. He was standing in Danny's living room and staring at Danny and Danny was staring back and walking toward him. Martin felt his cock swell even more, because as Danny closed the distance between them he was unbuttoning his shirt, and more and more of that golden skin was being exposed. Danny was pulling his shirt off now, letting it drop to the floor and he was almost within reach. Finally, finally this was it and then Danny was walking right past him.

Martin stayed still for a moment, stunned.

"Join me?" and Martin turned to see Danny peeling his wet jeans off and kicking them to the side, letting Martin have just a glimpse of what seemed to be a perfectly formed ass before disappearing into the bathroom.

Martin pulled his own shirt off, for once not taking the time to fold it, just tossing it to the side as he hurried after Danny. His hands fumbling at the leather cords of his pants, and motherfuck it was even harder to get out of these things than to get into them. He was actually whimpering in frustration when thank god, the cords gave way after one last savage tug and Martin was in the doorway, hopping around on one foot as he tried to push the still sticky leather down over his hips and kick his shoes off at the same time. He could just make out Danny's outline through the shower door, because the bathroom was already starting to steam up, just a glimpse of movement, a dark form against the etched glass.

He finally got his legs free of what would forever be known in his mind as the pants of humiliation and slid the shower door open. And if there was anything sexier than Danny, it was soaped up, wet, Danny, standing under the shower spray with his head back, eyes closed, and the water beating on his chest. Martin almost fell as he climbed into the shower next to him, sliding the door shut. And then, ohmygodthisisnotadream, he was IN THE SHOWER with DANNY. And Danny was turning to look at him, eyes half-opened, lips parted just enough to let Martin see the tip of his tongue slide out.

Martin's hands were reaching out, sliding down the soapy skin of Danny's arms, and this is what a kid in a candy shop must feel like because Martin couldn't imagine anything tasting better than Danny when he moved those last few inches and kissed him. Because he was spicy and sweet and his lips moved in a kiss the way they moved when he talked, and Martin could barely keep up, his tongue and teeth trying frantically to taste and feel and absorb Danny.

And Danny was moaning against him, into his mouth and the hot water was streaming over both of them. The other man's hands were on his hips now, sliding around to cup his ass and Martin couldn't think, couldn't do anything but feel. His fingers were digging into Danny's arms, feeling the muscles moving underneath his hands and Danny's dick was hard against Martin's thigh. Suddenly Martin realized that the only thing he wanted to taste more than Danny's mouth was his cock.

One of his hands moved down to brush against it, just a whisper of his fingers across the head and Danny's head jerked back, kiss broken as the other man groaned and thrust forward. Martin could feel his lips curving into a smile, because this is how he'd imagined it. So responsive to every touch, dark eyes hazy and teeth worrying his bottom lip as Martin's hand came back to wrap around the base of his cock. Other hand sliding down now to push Danny's legs apart roughly, before stroking along the inside of his thighs. And Danny was bucking now, thrusting his hips forward so his cock slid along Martin's palm, and Martin could stay like this all day, could watch Danny fuck his hand. That long lean body trembling with tension and then he was was crying out again as Martin started to move his hand, started to slide it along the length of hot flesh, tightening his grip until it was just this side of painful.

His other hand pressed back, sliding along Danny's thigh and up to caress his balls, tugging and kneading them as he stroked the other man's cock, long slow slide up, thumb swirling along the head, then fast down stroke. Danny was muttering something, noises instead of words and not resisting as Martin pressed him back against the shower wall. And he couldn't stand it anymore, couldn't stand to look at how beautiful he was and not taste him. Ignoring Danny's protests as he pulled his hands away and slid down to his knees, the water beating against his back.

Then hands were in his hair and his face was against Danny's cock, the heat of it pressing against his cheek and the smell of Danny all around him. And Danny was looking down at him, those half-closed dark eyes going all wide as Martin pressed his mouth against the tip of Danny's dick, Martin staring right back at him as he opened his mouth and took Danny in. His lips sliding, sucking, along the length of his dick, his hands coming up to rest on the other man's hips.

Thud as Danny's head fell back against the shower wall, and he could feel him quivering, fighting the instinct to buck up, to bury himself to the hilt and Martin knew he wouldn't last long. One hand slipping down to wrap against the base of Danny's cock, and then mouth and hand moving together slowly, up and back, until just the tip of his dick was in Martin's mouth, the salty taste of precome on his tongue and then deep, until he could feel him against the back of his throat. Over and over, Danny's hands moving in his hair, tugging and rubbing and he was moving a little faster because he could feel how close Danny was, could feel the other man's muscles tighten, his entire body going stiff. And the hands were rough now in his hair, and Martin was taking it all in, letting Danny move now, letting him slide deeper and then Danny was coming and Martin's own cock was leaking and damned if he didn't think he could come just from the taste and feel of the other man's orgasm.

But then Danny was sliding down to the shower floor beside him, reaching for Martin with shaky hands. And they were kissing again and Danny had to taste himself in Martin's mouth and that thought very nearly did make Martin come because this was even better than his fantasies. And if he didn't do something soon he was going to come without getting inside Danny and that was unacceptable. Because he had been waiting for years for this and if by some chance this was all a fevered dream he'd be damned if he was going to wake up before he got to experience what coming inside of Danny was like.

So he was climbing to his feet with unsteady movements and pulling a protesting Danny up, and the other man probably would've just stayed there in the bottom of the bath tub if the water hadn't started getting cold. He made a half-hearted attempt to dry off, but his dick was throbbing and rubbing a thin towel over Danny's naked body was making it throb even more. Then they were falling over each other in their eagerness to get to the bedroom and Danny had flopped down on the bed without bothering to turn the light on but Martin wouldn't stand for it because by god he wanted to SEE Danny.

And so it was that Martin once again found himself standing beside Danny's bed, but this time he was wide awake and there was a whole field of golden skin for him to explore but he didn't think he could wait much longer. Because Danny was giving him that lazy smile again, and pulling open the drawer to the bedside table so Martin could see a stash of lube and condoms. And Danny was saying that the test the Bureau required every few months was clean, and Martin was letting him know that his test was clean too. And then his whole body was going to explode because he was about to be inside Danny because the other man had grabbed his hand and was pulling him into the bed.

Martin wanted to go slow, to savor every inch of golden skin, to taste and kiss and stroke everything that the other man offered, but he couldn't wait. Because three years was too damn long to be so close to somebody that he wanted so badly, and Danny had the lube in his hand and was grinning at Martin quite evilly as he squirted a generous amount into his palm and reached out to spread it over Martin's cock. Martin thought his eyes rolled back in his head at the first touch of Danny's hand, but they must not have because he could still see, he could see the contrast between Danny's darker skin against the pale skin of Martin's thighs and the duskier color of his cock.

Then he was pushing Danny away, pushing the other man back into the bed, and kneeling between his thighs. His own hands sliding along Danny's thighs and then underneath to cup his ass. And Martin really should go slow, should take time to prepare the other man with his fingers first, but goddamn he was wrapping those long legs around Martin's hips and pulling him forward and then the tip of his cock was against Danny. Martin was trying very hard to go slow, concentrating so hard that he bit his own lip until the metallic taste of blood was on his tongue.

But Danny was having none of it, and as Martin tried to ease himself inside Danny used his thighs to pull Martin in and then ohgodohgodohgod, nothing felt this good. Nothing could be this tight and hot and Martin wasn't even moving, he was just inside Danny and Danny's eyes were closed, his hands clawing at the sheets as he fought to be still. And Danny's cock was hard again, jutting out from his body and sliding along Martin's belly.

Martin moved just a little bit, slid forward slowly, and Danny was moaning, his head turning back and forth on the pillow. And Martin could feel everything, the heat, the wet, the tight tight sensation of being buried inside Danny's body and Danny was begging him, voice gone all deep and rough.

"Please, Martin. I can't wait."

And Martin started moving, and thank god for all those miles he ran because his thighs were quivering and he could barely breath because he was IN DANNY. And then he was sliding inside and back and hitting that spot in Danny that made him arch up out of the bed and it was sotightsotightsotight and Danny's hand was coming up to stroke his own cock and he was saying something in Spanish and it was that sound that pushed Martin over the edge because Martin was coming and he was filling Danny up and nothing ever felt quite this good before. Then Danny was coming again, a hot splash against Martin's belly and Martin was collapsing on top of him and trying to remember how to breath.

It was long minutes later before Martin could muster the energy to speak, but it didn't matter because Danny's hands were stroking along his back and Danny wasn't saying anything. So Martin just let it be, let it lie between them, this, whatever it was or would become. And when he finally had the strength to move he slid out of Danny, and slid out of bed.

He felt the weight of Danny's eyes on his back, knew the other man was waiting to see what he would do. And Martin knew that Danny would accept it, wouldn't do a thing if Martin got dressed and left without a word. For a moment, less than a second, Martin considered it because he didn't like messes and something told him this would be a mess. But then he thought maybe he'd like a mess that involved Danny so he just went to the doorway and slid a hand out to flip off the light switch and then he climbed back into Danny's bed.


	10. That's Gonna Leave a Mark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The finale of our boys saga, aka into every relationship a little angst must fall. Features Angry/AngstyDanny! GrumpyMartin! and of course scads of hot sex between hot men

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, as much as I love the Perceptions series, this is well and truly the end. This series follows along with the third season, and you all know what's coming next *shudders* Endgame. And, I just can't put the boys through that much angst. My Danny and Martin want to live happily ever after. Thanks so much for all of you guys who encouraged me and took the time to give me feedback through this series.

Danny pushed through the door to his apartment building with a sigh. He was teetering on the edge of exhaustion, and he could feel the sharp edge of anger sliding along his spine like a knife. The last few days had passed in a blur, his life going from absolutely right to absolute shit in the blink of an eye.

One minute he'd been in bed with Martin, sleeping the sleep of a man who had been well and truly fucked, the next minute he was jarred awake by the insistent ringing of his cell phone. A heartbeat later, Martin's cell phone had started ringing too. They had both gone scrambling, the illusion of peace shattered with the news that a five year old girl had disappeared out of her bedroom.

Martin had left while he was in the shower, a hastily scribbled note explaining that he had borrowed some sweats from Danny and gone to his apartment to get fresh clothes. Duty called even as the first streaks of daylight appeared in the sky.

Forty-two hours later they had found her body, and on the heels of that discovery, another abduction. Days had passed chasing down leads the led nowhere except to another body. He and Martin barely had time to say hello, much less discuss what happened between them. He'd been teamed up with Sam or Jack for the most part, with Martin working with the tech guy to chase the electronic trail. Late Thursday they'd caught the bastard, too late to save the latest victim.

Jack had sent them all home with orders to stay out of the office on Friday and rest. After a night alone, tangled up in sheets that still smelled like Martin, Danny had hoped to spend the weekend tangled up in Martin. He'd called, only to find that Martin was heading out of town for a wedding and wouldn't be back in town until late on Sunday.

So he spent the weekend roaming around his neighborhood and trying to rest. Of course, he'd been able to think of nothing except Martin the whole time. Think of nothing except the scent, the touch, the feel of Martin sliding into his body, of that mouth wrapped around his cock. He'd even contemplated paying Martin a surprise late night visit Sunday night, especially when the kid next door decided to start cutting teeth, loudly. He'd resisted the urge, knowing that Martin would be exhausted, and headed to the office instead. The bar exam was only a couple of weeks off, and he was behind on his studying.

Then Monday morning, his world fell apart. He spent two frantic days chasing after Rafie, the anger and fear riding him every step. The team had pulled together for him, Viv keeping him on track when the familiar tug toward the bottle got to be too much, and Martin by his side when they finally caught up with his brother. Things were a mess, but Rafie was alive. There was hope, but it was that same bitter hope that Danny had clung to as a child. That old saying, it could be worse, offered little comfort to someone who had already lived through worse. So, he'd tried to pull it together and convince himself that a living addicted Rafie, heading back to jail, was better than a dead Rafie. He almost believed it.

He'd dropped Sylvia back at the apartment after they left the police station, seeing that same bitter hope shining in his sister-in-law's eyes. Now that Rafie was found, for better or worse, the wave of adrenaline that had crashed over him and kept him going for the last few days was sliding away. What he was left with was pure blind fury. He felt like he was free-falling back into the past, all the fighting and work to pull himself up crumbling like a kid's sandcastle.

He climbed the stairs to his apartment without realizing it, his body on automatic pilot. It took him a moment to register Martin, to realize that the man sitting outside his apartment with his back braced against the door was Fitz. Martin looked almost as tired as Danny felt, struggling to his feet as Danny approached.

"Hey, I was - "

Danny felt a flash of anger when he saw the concern in Martin's eyes. What had he been thinking? So stupid to think that they could be more than friends, Martin was from a different world, a world that didn't involve crack-head brothers. He cut the other man off, "Go home, Martin. I'm fine." He let his eyes linger on Martin for a moment, digging his keys out of his pocket.

Martin frowned at him, his jaw clenching. "Danny, you're not fine. Let me--"

"Enough." And it was, Danny brushed past the other man, his shoulder pushing Martin back. "I don't need a babysitter." He tried to ignore the way his hand trembled when he slid the key in the lock. He couldn't stand to see the pity in Martin's eyes. It was just another reminder of why things could never work. No matter how well Danny cleaned up, his past followed him around.

Martin reached a hand out, letting it fall lightly on Danny's outstretched arm. "Look, Danny…I don't claim to know what you're feeling, but – "

"That's right Martin." The fury burst out of him, the key forgotten as he shoved Martin back against the door, his palms coming down hard against Martin's chest. "You don't know a damn thing about what I'm feeling." He pressed his face in close, wanting Martin to see what he really was, what he came from. "I'm an alcoholic, and I came damn close to taking another drink today. My father was a mean son-of-a-bitch, who beat hell out of me and Rafie anytime he could. And Rafie," he made a sound of disgust, "You saw what he is, what I am."

He waited, his hands tightening into fists, waited to see the look of revulsion on Martin's face when his words sunk in. Instead all he saw was concern, a gleam of unshed tears hovering in those blue eyes. It broke Danny, made him shatter into a million jagged pieces. Then Martin was leaning forward, his lips settling against Danny's mouth with a little sigh.

The emotions that had been coursing through him for the last few days - fury, fear, loathing - all crystallized into something else, something that Danny poured into that kiss. His mouth took charge, tongue sliding out to press into Martin's mouth, to run along tongue and teeth. Martin's arms slid around him, pulled him in close, palms making slow circles along his back. His teeth caught Martin's lower lip, tugging then nipping, a shared moan echoing between them. He wanted this, needed this, needed to feel alive and whole and clean.

One of Martin's hands moved up, his fingers sliding along Danny's neck and into his hair, tugging and rubbing. Martin's other hand settled in the hollow of his back, a firm pressure steadying him. He let himself lean into Martin, lean into the other man's strength like an anchor. He could feel the beat of Martin's heart under his hands, his clenched fists relaxing until his palm was over the heartbeat, the rhythm soothing.

Martin's fingers in his hair tugged, pulling his head back to break the kiss. "Let's go inside."

Danny nodded, exhaustion reasserting itself. He leaned against the door frame as Martin turned the key and opened the door. He let the other man guide him inside, locking the door behind them. Danny felt strangely numb, empty after the roller coaster ride of emotions.

Martin stayed quiet, leading him to the bedroom without a word, his hand on Danny's back urging him forward. He clicked the bedside lamp on, the light making Danny blink. "You need to get some sleep. You're dead on your feet Danny."

Danny swayed unsteadily as Martin slid the jacket off his shoulders and stepped in front of him to unbutton his shirt. Danny couldn't quite meet his eyes, the blunt tips of Martin's fingers brushing against Danny's bare skin as he worked the buttons loose. Danny could feel the scalding heat that the other man exuded, each fingertip leaving a spark of warmth in its wake. He swallowed, his voice ragged when he finally found words. "What are you doing here Martin? If it's because of the other night, well, you don't have to…" His voice trailed off.

Martin's eyes were fierce, his hand coming up to grip Danny's jaw and force him to look at him. "I'm here because I care. You got that? It doesn't have anything to do with sex or work or any kind of obligation."

The breath that Danny didn't realize he'd been holding burst out of him. Some of the pressure, the weight that had been pressing against his chest since he got the call that Rafie was missing, started to ease. He gave Martin a little smile, "Thanks."

Martin nodded, his hand sliding down to unfasten Danny's rumpled suit pants. "Good." He slid the pants over Danny's hips, Danny shedding his shoes and stepping out of the pants when Martin tapped his leg.

He should feel ridiculous, standing in front of Martin in nothing but a pair of black socks and a worn out pair of boxer briefs while Martin was still fully dressed. Even that took too much energy though, and he didn't resist when Martin pushed him gently back on the bed. The other man leaned over him, straightening the covers and pulling them up over Danny's chest. "Try to get some sleep, okay. Jack said not to worry about coming in to the office tomorrow. He said he'd call you in if we get a hot case."

Danny nodded, the sweet tug of sleep making his eyelids heavy. He was dimly aware of Martin snapping the lamp off and heading toward the door. He roused himself just enough to call out, "Hey Fitzie." He could barely make out the silhouette of the other man, and he was grateful for the darkness, glad Martin couldn't see the raw need on his face.

"Yeah?"

"Stay with me, okay." He tried to sound unaffected, like it didn't really matter, and knew that he failed miserably. "I mean, it's a big bed, plenty of room. If you wanna stay. Not that you have to or anything."

Martin was silent for a long moment, and Danny braced himself for the rejection he knew was coming. "Yeah, I'd like to stay."

A surge of something, relief tempered with another emotion that Danny dared not examine too closely, flowed through him. Because maybe his life wasn't complete shit after all. Some part of him thawed a little as he heard the rustle of clothing, then a minute later the bed dipped. He moved over, leaving plenty of space as Martin slid into the bed beside him. Then Martin was tugging him back, until they were pressed together side to side.

He was almost asleep, cocooned in the strength and heat of Martin, when Martin spoke. "Just one thing, okay?"

"Hmm."

"No singing."

\------

Danny muttered in his sleep and shifted, he must have the electric blanket turned up too high because he was about to smother from all the heat. He reached a hand out blindly, searching for the off switch and found warm flesh instead. His eyes shot open, blinking in the pale light filtering through the window.

He turned his head, and his breath caught in his throat. He had something much much better than an electric blanket keeping him warm. Martin was sprawled out next to him, lying on his side with his cheek pressed into the pillow. One arm was draped over Danny's stomach, palm resting below his belly button. He could feel the weight and heat of Martin's thigh across his own, Martin's foot somehow wedged between Danny's knees.

A smile spread across Danny's face, who would have guessed Fitzie was a snuggler? Maybe Snugglebear was a good nickname after all. He stretched, more refreshed than he would have thought possible after the nightmare of the last few days. Seemed like sleeping with Snugglebear did a body good.

And speaking of good bodies…he pushed the blanket back and let his eyes roam over the glory of Martin at rest. It amazed Danny that Martin could hide so much hotness under those hideous suits. Even asleep, the swell and curve of muscle under pale skin was obvious. He shifted away, trying to get a little space between them so he could get a better view. Martin muttered, a frown appearing briefly as he tugged Danny back with a grunt.

The sound, that possessive little grunt, did all sorts of delicious things to Danny. He felt his cock stir, that little tingle starting to travel up his spine. He moved away again, this time taking great care to untangle himself from the other man. His breath caught when Martin's hand slid away, fingers grazing his dick.

He reached a tentative hand out, letting his fingers glide along Martin's chest as he pushed the other man onto his back. He glanced down, wincing a little at the Marvin the Martian boxer shorts Martin was wearing. It occurred to Danny that he'd spent an awful lot of time thinking about having Martin in his bed, and way too little time enjoying the reality. He peeled the covers the rest of the way back, following them down until his body was draped out along side Martin's legs.

He glanced up, watching Martin's face as he reached a hand out to curve along one thigh. No reaction. He let the hand explore a little, light touches trailing along the defined muscles. Martin made a little sound, somewhere between a moan and a sigh. Danny grinned, both hands easing up to tug the other man's boxer shorts down. "Bye bye Marvin." He moved slowly, taking his time to ease the underwear down past Martin's knees.

The effort was definitely worth it. Martin's cock was semi-erect, already starting to jut out. Danny leaned over it, blowing lightly against the head as his eyes watched Martin's face. A little half-smile now, dimples just starting to show.

Danny ran a finger along the length, letting it trail down along Martin's balls. That got a moan, and Danny couldn't wait any longer. He wrapped a hand around the base and lowered his mouth down to take it in, the sudden stiffening of both Martin's cock and thighs letting him know the instant the other man woke up.

"Jesus, Danny." The words came out in a gasp, Danny's mouth beginning to slide up and down Martin's dick, his lips pressed tight, tongue leaving a wet trail along the heated flesh. He pulled back a little, looking up to see Martin's eyes gone wide. Then he dove back down, moaning a little as Martin arched up, his dick tickling the back of Danny's throat.

One of Martin's hands was in his hair, the other gripping Danny's shoulder. Martin tasted just as good as Danny had imagined. Hint of Irish Spring, sweat and tang of pre-come all mixing in his mouth. He worked one hand down between Martin's legs, cupping his balls, the other hand pumping lightly as his mouth traveled up and down the length of Martin's cock. He could feel the little quivers in Martin's body, the jerk and jolt, muscles of Martin's thighs gone stiff and tight. His fingers slid back, knuckles pressing along the span of flesh between Martin's balls and ass.

Martin cried out at the sensation, his hips coming off the bed, cock nearly making Danny gag. He resisted the urge to pull away, opening his mouth wider instead. His tongue slid up, circling the head as his hand began to pump faster. Tight squeeze, twist of his wrist as mouth and hand met and then moved apart, all of Martin's cock enveloped by Danny. He wanted to do this for days, wanted to suck and lick and touch and, just a hint of teeth, and Martin was bucking up again. Press of knuckles against hot skin, another stroke up and back and twist, tongue pressing, sliding, hold and release. And Danny's own cock was hard and hot and think about baseball, baseball.

Strangled moan, "I'm gonna--" and then Martin was coming, the hot splash filling Danny's mouth, the tremors shaking Martin from head to toe. The hand in his hair clenching, the hand on his shoulder almost brutal as it closed down tight. Danny took it all, reveled in it, the taste, the feel, the smell of Martin. Held him in his mouth, his hand still wrapped around the base, until the last shiver subsided.

The hand on his shoulder loosened, thumb and fingers rubbing lightly over abused flesh. He pulled away finally, letting his chin rest on the top of Martin's thigh.

"That was, god Danny, that was…"

"Thanks." He knew he was smirking, but goddamn he couldn't help it. He looked up, smirk turning to a grin at the dazed look on Martin's face. The other man was flushed, his lips swollen and red, and Danny would bet a hundred bucks that Martin had been biting them, trying to hold back. "You look good in my bed."

Martin flushed even more, his head falling back on the pillow. "Why do I get the horrible feeling that you're a morning person?"

Danny's grin widened. "That's right Fitzie. And you know what I'm thinking about this morning?" His hand reached out to stroke over Martin's spent cock, the movement making Martin shudder. "I'm thinking that I don't have to go into work today, and you do. So…" his hand made another slide across sensitized flesh. "Seems like it would be a good time to get that revenge I promised you."

"Revenge?" Martin's head was back up, his upper body propped up by his elbows. "What do you mean, revenge?"

"Well," Danny's hand moved to the thigh where his head rested. "I think I mentioned, getting some payback."

"Payback?"

"Payback." He let his fingers trail across the inside of Martin's thigh. "Remember," he cocked his head to one side, the bite and bruise on his neck just a faint outline after so many days. "I owe you for this."

A look of unease crossed Martin's face. "Yeah, well, like you said. I've got to go to work." His other leg started to slide toward the edge of the bed.

Danny made a tsking sound. "Ya know, I think Jack will understand if you're a little late." His other hand shot out to snag Martin's wayward leg. He turned his head, pressing his mouth against the meat of Martin's thigh, teeth grazing lightly before sinking in hard enough to make Martin cry out.

"Danny!"

Danny lifted his head, giving Martin an innocent look. "Well, now. I figured you would want me to be discreet. Nothing you can't cover up, right?"

Martin looked like he wanted to argue, face bright red now. Then Danny's thumb slid across the bite mark, tracing the faint indentions his teeth had left in the pale skin. At the touch Martin sighed, and Danny knew he'd won.

He slithered a little further up the bed, hand skimming lightly up Martin's hip. "Now, this," his palm stroked along the trail of hair that trailed south from Martin's belly button. "Would be a very discreet spot." He leaned over, his tongue tracing the path up from Martin's groin to his navel. Martin groaned, the sound making Danny's dick tremble. He circled Martin's bellybutton, teeth nipping lightly at the taut flesh.

His hand flowed up, tracing the ridge of sculpted ab muscles, leaving a trail for his mouth to follow. Martin was shivering under his touch, his hands coming up to grip Danny's arms. Danny paused, his teeth closing over a patch of pale skin along Martin's ribs. He bit down, hard enough to hurt, then released, his tongue laving gently over the tender flesh.

Martin's hands tightened over his biceps, a sound somewhere between pleasure and pain. Then pure pleasure as Danny's mouth closed over his nipple, his tongue swirling over and around, then softly sucking. Danny's hand rubbed along the other nipple, catching it between his fingers and tugging. His mouth followed, and Martin was almost purring now. His hands slid down Danny's body, trying to pull him up.

Danny gave a little laugh, looking up and shaking his head. "I'm not done with you yet." He slithered a little further up, pressing a kiss against Martin's throat. He felt the other man stiffen, waiting to see what he would do. He laughed again, letting his teeth scrape softly along the skin before pulling back. "Turn over."

They were almost face to face now. Martin's face was flushed, his mouth open, breath coming in little pants. Danny couldn't resist a kiss, let his lips settle over Martin's for just a moment, and goddamn even with morning breath Martin tasted better than ice cream. Hot mouth, tongue sliding out to trace along the seam of Danny's lips, to rub against Danny's tongue before Danny pulled away.

He slapped a hand down on Martin's chest, he used his most authoritative voice, "Over."

Wonder of wonders, Martin obeyed. Danny smirked again, he might have to try that tone out more often. Then he stopped thinking, because the other side of Martin was just as delicious as the front. Heavy muscles, same muscles that had pulled Danny off of Luis Vega the day before. Impossibly broad shoulders tapering into a narrow waist. Maybe that was why Martin had to wear such horrible suits, they were the only ones that fit his shoulders. He let his hands slide along those shoulders, tracing the curve of muscle. Then he slid lower, pressing his mouth between Martin's shoulder blades, trail of kisses, soft and gentle, and then a quick bite. Moving lower, mouth and tongue now, wet trail down Martin's spine. Move to the side, and bite down hard enough to make Martin cry out. Tongue sliding out, soothing the hurt.

Martin was quivering, and Danny was damn near close to coming without a single touch to his straining cock. His hands smoothed down over the curves of Martin's ass, that impossibly round ass. "Now this," his voice was uneven. "This would be the perfect place to mark you up." His fingers dug into one of the cheeks, pressing.

He slid down, letting his stubbled cheek rub along the small of Martin's back. Martin made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a growl. "Damn it Danny!" Then softer, "Danny," because his tongue was sliding along Martin's ass, his hands pulling him apart. His mouth following, tongue circling and sliding and just a flicker at first, a tentative exploration and then Martin was gasping because Danny was licking along sensitive skin.

Tongue and fingers now, wet and insistent, and working their way inside. Sliding a little further and opening Martin up, and Danny's tongue was right there, rough then soft, slick and quick and such a clever tongue finding its way to all those spots that made Martin shudder and cry out and make noises that made the come drip out of Danny's dick.

Danny wanted to go on, to stay just like that, his face and fingers buried in the sweet curve of ass, but Martin was begging. Just "please, please, please," over and over and Danny twisted his finger, let it brush against the sweet spot and Martin was crying out again. And then Danny couldn't wait either, and he moved away slowly because too fast and Martin would come and Danny wanted to be inside him this time.

Martin was making little protesting noises, his hips pushing forward to grind his cock into the bed. Danny reached past him, snagged the bottle of lube from the nightstand and god don't let him drop it, because any delay was going to be too much. Scrambling out of his underwear, popping the lube open and a little hiss escaping his lips because it was cold. Heated up quick when it hit his skin though and just a couple of light touches to spread it and then he was back.

Martin was waiting for him, head still buried in the pillow, but ass in the air, waiting for Danny to – ah, paused just a minute, lining up. His cock pressed in close, his hands spreading Martin wide, and, go slow Danny, go slow, think about baseball, and screw baseball because Martin was lunging back. Martin was lunging back and impaling himself on Danny's dick and damn it, Danny was nearly biting his own lip in two because if he thrust forward he was going to come.

His hands gripped Martin's hips, trying to hold the other man still, Martin fighting him, trying to move. Danny's hands cruel now, forcing him to stay still. "Not yet!" Martin finally listening, the involuntary little quivers shaking his body, his own hand reaching around to close over his dick.

Finally, one Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi, and Danny thought he could move a little. He did, just a shallow little flex of his hips, and then another. Martin moaning, and Danny going a little deeper. His hands still holding Martin still, his eyes closed because looking at Martin right now would be too much, pure sensory overload. Because being inside Martin was beyond comprehension, better than any fantasy, any dream. Pure tight heat and the shiver and quiver of a hard muscled body under him. Deeper now, but still slow, and from the sounds Martin was making he could go at anytime.

Sharp thrust now, hiss and moan, not sure if that was Martin or his own mouth making those noises. Hands moving now, pulling Martin up and back until his hands were on the other man's shoulders. Martin on his knees, raring up as Danny moved over him. And harder now, quick slide, rough drag and again. Pushing Martin's hand away, and taking the other man's cock in one of his own. Stroke of hand and then thrust of dick until he had Martin surrounded. Once more, twice and hot spill as Martin came all over his hand, bucking back and Danny screaming, not words but just one long sound of pleasure as he came face pressing into Martin's shoulder, teeth closing down hard for the span of a breath.

Shudder and quiver and Martin was collapsing back on the bed with Danny on top of him. Danny in him, not caring if he was ever anywhere else. Danny's hand still sticky with come trapped under Martin, sheen of sweat over both of them. Finally, able to breath again, and slow slide out, juicy sound of wet flesh as he rolled over on his back and collapsed next to Martin.

The smell of sex hung heavy in the air, somehow made thicker by the spray of sunlight drifting through the window. Martin muttered something before flipping over to face him. Danny knew that he had the smirk to end all smirk on his face because Martin looked like a man that had just been fucked within an inch of his life.

Martin gave him a dirty look, his hand going up to rub at the bite mark on his shoulder. The best he could manage was a half-hearted glare and then he was pulling Danny back close.

For once Danny couldn't think of a single thing to say, because for now, for just this very minute, one crystallized moment, things were good.

THE END  



End file.
